Sincerely, Me
by CrazzdPixi
Summary: A seventh year story. Hermione comes back from a summer away, cut off from all her friends, a different person then they remembered. And the new DADA teacher seems to have a secret. And in some rock music, and you've got the recipe for adventure. HGRW
1. These Letters to You

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the folks at Hogwarts. I would like to own, Ron, though. I think that would make me a very happy person. Does anyone have a Ron they'd like to sell me? Please?  
  
Warnings: This is a good clean chapter, nothing interesting going on, really. I don't know how this fic'll go, though. We'll take it chapter by chapter, does that sound alright, kids? Okay. I'll shut up about this now.  
  
Author's notes: Well, like I said, this chapter is your standard introduction. It's written primarily through Ron's POV, as most of this fic will be. Well, read and enjoy, folks. Then tell me what you think. Pretty please? I love reviews. Yay!  
  
** Sincerely,  
Me.  
**  
**_Chapter one: These letters to you  
_**  
Not one letter. Not one single stinking bloody letter, the whole summer long. It wasn't as though she was his best friend. Not as though this was such a big time in her life, and he thought she would want to share it with him. Not as though she had promised to write when she got there.  
  
Oh, wait. It was. It was all of those things. And still, not a single letter had come. No foreign looking owl had dropped a letter on the breakfast table, relating some adventure she had that day. No stories of getting lost in that big American city, no description of new people she had met, no feelings of homesickness or anything. She could be dead for all he knew.  
  
Until today.  
  
Today, a week before the start of their final year, Hermione's first owl dropped its load midst the Weasley breakfast. Ron had snatched it up immediately, then stolen off to his room to see what she had said.  
  
But it wasn't a letter. It was barely a note.  
  
_ "Ron!  
  
New York has been amazing! Sorry I haven't written much. I'll be in Diagon Ally this Saturday, I hope to see you there! Love ya,  
  
Hermione XOXO"  
_  
There was something off about it. The halted sentences were not her style. Somehow, her signature had lost some of its curl, now looking less girly and more... grown up. He would be in Diagon Ally that Saturday, too. There, he would meet her. And there, he would say his piece.  
  
-----  
  
"Ron! Harry! How are you two!" a familiar voice (though tinted with un-familiarity) called across a crowd. Harry waved excitedly, calling back to the last third of their unbreakable triad, while Ron scowled at a window. "Wow, it's good to see some familiar faces again. You wouldn't believe how big New York is! Oh we have to sit and talk about it! Ice cream sound good?" She talked quickly, her voice still sounding strange to him. The window retained his interest until he felt his arm being pulled. "Ron? Come on, we're going for ice cream!" He looked up at this strange voice into an even stranger face. Her hair was different. Smaller. Straighter. It was actually stick straight now, and Ron guessed that she had used a beauty spell on it. It was shorter, too, cut so it framed her face in uneven layers. It looked amazing, she looked amazing with it. But not like herself. Her face was dusted with make up and her clothes fit too tightly for his liking. After his appraisal (which really only took a few seconds), he spoke to her.  
  
"You look different." The first thing he said in months. The smile dropped off her face momentarily, then returned, even brighter.  
  
"God, Ron, you still can't say the right thing to save your life!" she threw her arm around his shoulder. "I think I actually missed that. I have missed you two so much!" With that, they started towards the ice cream shop and Hermione launched into the tale of her trip.  
  
She had had a reason for not writing, it seemed. The owl post was more strictly monitored in trans-continental trips, and was quite a bit more expensive. The only owl she could afford could only carry a two inch square of parchment, and she couldn't fit everything she wanted to say in that space, so she left it all unsaid.  
  
"I am really so terribly sorry I didn't write to you both. There were some times that I just wanted to talk to you, to complain about what was going on or ask advice or just tell you how much I missed you, but I couldn't. Or... well..." she blushed slightly, then reached into her handbag. She was carrying a handbag, Ron noticed scornfully, and reaching into it with painted nails. She pulled out two notebooks, both Muggle-made, spiral bound contraptions, and handed one to each of them. "I did write you, I just couldn't send the letters. But they're all here, and it'll give more detail then my story now. So.. Well, read it when you can." She blushed again, shot a look at Ron's book, then smiled. "So! How have your summers been?" Harry launched into the tale of how we had helped Mad Eye and Lupin in some Order business while Ron listened politely. He had done nothing this summer. Fought with Ginny, helped the twins in their shop for a week, and patiently awaited Hermione's letter. His summer in one sentence. Not very exciting.  
  
Twenty minutes later, they still sat talking, sundaes drained to the dregs. Things were lighter, they had picked up right where they left off the year before. Except that they were all very different people. Hermione had a new confidence about her; a confidence that Ron would find attractive, were she not just so... Hermione. And Harry had finally seen some real action. He also had confidence, but it was different, and Ron didn't find it attractive in any way. They both seemed so.... Happy. Ron was the only one of the three who was exactly the same as he had been. And somehow, he resented that they had changed. He was angrily stirring the last bit of his sundae, while Harry and Hermione chatted as if nothing had changed. He barely noticed as Harry stood, only snapped out of his reverie when Hermione tapped his shoulder.  
  
"I have to leave now," Harry explained. "Things to do. You know how it is." He smiled genuinely at his friends. "It was great seeing you two again. Can't wait 'til we get back to Hogwarts. I'll see you there." Ron smirked back, trying to forget his anger. Harry walked through the crowd, leaving in his wake a heavy air. It was somehow uncomfortable, just the two of them sitting there. Ron shifted, stole a look at Hermione as she did the same. Both looked away quickly and blushed, then she laughed. A cherubic laugh that should not have affected him, but had managed to twist his stomach into knots.  
  
"God, Ron! Look at you!" She laughed again. "Just like I remember. I love you for that. I don't know if I could have handled it if I came back here and you weren't... well, you!" She laughed, Ron's stomach twisted tighter. 'Say something!' he shouted at himself.  
  
"Well... I can't really say the same about you. You really do look different." He mumbled, staring into his near empty glass. "You're hair is straight and... well, it looks really nice, for a change. And you..." he trailed off, trying to think of the right words. They came at length, but they came and presented themselves boldly to a stunned Hermione. "You've grown up, Hermione! When I first met you, you were this silly bossy little know-it-all with no friends to speak of, and that's how I tended to think of you. Not the no friends part, not for long, because you and Harry are my best friends.. But I guess over time you changed. I could try and deny it before, but now here it is, staring me in the face. You've really grown out of what I'm guessing now was just an awkward stage into... a really... beautiful woman..." As soon as these words had escaped his lips, Ron wondered why he had said them. He tried to disappear into his chair but couldn't shake the feeling of Hermione's gaze. Slowly he returned it, finding her with a shocked happy look written across her face. She shook her head and laughed.  
  
"Alright, maybe you do know how to say the right thing sometimes," she mumbled, but Ron had decided that he wasn't done talking.  
  
"And it's not just you! Harry's grown up this summer, too." he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "You both are now blessed with this unexplainable confidence and grownup air and... damnit, I feel like a kid, still! I haven't grown up at all, the whole time I've been at Hogwarts. Sure, I think about different things, but I think about them in the same childish way! I-" Hermione carefully put her hand over his lips.  
  
"Ron, you've grown up a hellova lot! Do you think in first year you'd even be able to say any of this to me? You'd try to ignore it, you'd pretend you didn't have any problems. Now, look at you. You have grown up. You have changed."  
  
"But you just said-"  
  
"The important things, the things that make you who you are, those will probably never change, and I hope they don't. You brighten peoples' days, you lighten horrible situations, you can make me smile even when I don't want to. I hope those things never change. And as for growing up, you have your whole life to grow up. I doubt you'll ever outgrow some of your childish habits, but that's okay. You'll figure it out eventually. You'll barely even notice when you do. But you shouldn't worry about it."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, then Ron laughed. "Wow, that was deep." he noticed. "Too deep for my liking. C'mon, Hermione, let's blow this Popsicle stand."  
  
"I didn't think you knew what a Popsicle was," she laughed.  
  
"I don't. But I heard a Muggle say that the other day and it sounded cool, so now I say it," he explained with a lopsided grin, placing money for the sundaes on their table. "Let's go."  
  
"Let's!"  
  
------  
  
"You wouldn't believe some of the shops I saw in New York!" Hermione exclaimed as they walked. "They had their own version of Diagon Ally, except that it was much bigger and... impossible to explain. It was like everything else in the city. So modern and shiny, yet it retained the sort of old world charm that everything in the wizarding world has. And the things they sold! I still have no idea what most of it was for! The bookstore was gargantuan, though. Had three levels and over 10,000 different selections! I felt like my head was going to explode!" Ron laughed at her excitement, running a hand through his hair. "Needless to say I almost spent all of the money my parents gave me there. Jamie had to practically drag me out, kicking and screaming." Ron paused, looking at her for a moment. She was biting her lip tentatively.  
  
"Who's Jamie?" Ron asked, trying not to sound angry. She looked up at him, trying to pretend she didn't notice.  
  
"Oh, he's just a guy I met there. He was working with us. Really talented, that one. He knows his stuff." Ron smiled to himself, he sounded like a know-it-all, just like Hermione. "If only he would apply himself. Well.. Apply himself in something other then music. Even though he has quite a bit of talent in that, too...." She was talking more to herself now, and Ron felt the need to remind her he was there.  
  
"You were friends with a rocker?" he chuckled, "And you didn't kill him?" Hermione looked slightly offended, crossing her arms.  
  
"Yes, Ronald, we got along just fine, thank you," she scoffed, "probably because he didn't jump down my throat every time I suggested something." It was Ron's turn to look offended, he hadn't jumped down her throat at all, then. Hermione looked at him, and her face softened. "Though, I admit, I missed bickering with you," she blushed. Ron shot a skeptical look at her, his anger forgotten. His look slowly morphed into a lopsided smile, then he laughed slightly.  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he admitted. They exchanged a look, then a laugh, and they knew everything was back. He gave her a coy look, then continued his questioning. "So, how did you meet this _Jamie_ character?" She rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"On the third day I was there, I was in the Central Park, playing my guitar-"  
  
"You play the guitar?" Ron asked, slightly, shocked. Hermione returned his look.  
  
"Yeah, have I never mentioned that?" she asked, actually surprised. Ron shook his head. "Oh, wow... well, I've played since I was about 8. My uncle taught me. The same uncle I was visiting this summer. I practiced while at Hogwarts, at least once a week. I can't believe I never told you!" Ron shrugged, feeling a little strange. This seemed like a big part of her life, a big part that he had never known about. "Well, it's not that important. I practice mostly out of habit. It's only every once in a while I really want to play. And then, it's like I can't find the time. You know how things can be.  
  
"Anyway, I was in Central Park, playing the guitar when this guy comes up to me, tell me I'm 'pretty good'. And we start talking about music, which is a topic I've never really discussed-"  
  
"But you're Hermione, so you have a wealth of knowledge on the subject," Ron played.  
  
"Actually, not really. I know a bit, but you can't really learn music from studying a book. It's like flying, it's just something you have to do to get. And I've spent a bit of time in the summer keeping up with Muggle music, so I know a bit. But for every fact I knew, for every band I brought up, Jamie could tell me ten things I didn't know. It was.. Refreshing, actually." Ron frowned. He could have told her things she didn't know about Quidditch. Why was that annoying, whereas this guy was refreshing. "We met up a few other times, in coffee shops and concerts and things. But the funniest part was that we both thought the other was a Muggle. It wasn't until one day I wanted to bring up a band he for sure wouldn't know, so I started talking about the Weird Sisters, and he just kinda looked at me funny for a minute, so I thought that I had something on my face, then he started laughing. I assured them that they were a real band, and he said that he knew, but he had no idea that I knew. So, we discovered that we had a lot more in common then music. I asked if he wanted to help with my uncle's project, and he did. He was probably one of the best friends I made on the trip." She got a distant look on her face, then looked a bit confused. She stopped walking, looking down Diagon Ally with a befuddled expression. Ron stopped, too, trying to see what she was seeing.  
  
"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked. She looked surprised at him, as though she had forgotten he was there, then smiled.  
  
"It's nothing. I thought I saw something, but I couldn't have," she explained. At that moment, a large barn owl swooped down and delivered a letter into her hands. She stared at it for a moment. "Now that's interesting."  
  
"Who's it from?" Ron asked, trying to read the writing on the envelope. She shrugged her shoulders in a fashion that said she did know who it was from. Carefully, she opened the envelope and pulled out a shiny card. On it was a picture of a flower being held in a hand. The rest was out of focus, but the outline of a man presenting the flower was just visible. "What is that?" Ron questioned, very confused. Hermione smiled.  
  
"It's a Muggle photograph." She explained. "They don't move, you know. Muggles use them as a sort of art form. I think I know who took this photo." She looked around, to the spot she had been staring earlier, but it was empty. Frowning, she turned the photograph over.  
  
_ I hope this helps you see.  
Sincerely,  
Me.  
_  
Ron looked at the message, frowning as well. "Well that's a bit vague" he noted. Hermione didn't hear, or if she did, she was too busy smiling to respond. She shook her head and put the picture in its envelope, then into her purse. Safely stowed away, she turned back to Ron.  
  
"I should be going. I've got to pack still, and there's a few other things I want to do back home," she mused, looking off in the distance again. She didn't see the disappointed look that crossed Ron's face, for the moment she turned back, it was gone. "I'll see you tomorrow on the train." She said, kissing his cheek. When Ron came to his senses again, she was already out of earshot, walking away with that confident air. Ron rubbed his cheek when she had kissed, wondering for the umpteenth time that day when Hermione had started having an effect on his stomach. Realizing what an idiot he must've looked like, standing in a busy street, rubbing his cheek, he hurried into Flourish and Blotts to buy his new school books.  
  
----  
  
Later that night, Ron remembered the notebook. It was sitting on his dresser, looking innocent. Ron knew better. He walked over to it, wondering what mysteries it would revile. It didn't look all that interesting. Plain blue with some bored doodles on the cover. He picked it up and looked at the scribblings further. In the top right corner was three faces, obviously representing himself, Harry and Hermione. An arrow was pointed at them with the words "Cool people" dancing around it. Ron laughed at that. The center of the cover was the dance floor for two stick figures, one in a dress. Various horns surrounded them, with notes pouring out of them and bouncing off of the couple. Ron wondered how bored she had to have been to charm the doodles so intricately. To the left of the "cool people" drawing, in a handwriting Ron didn't recognize, "This is Lauri, I'm cool, too" was written upside-down. Hermione Had written below this "She's a dirty liar". Ron laughed again, imagining the scene that this had occurred in. He stared at the cover for a minute more, before one of the "cool people" faces coughed, reminding him that things were written inside. He blushed, glared at the faces (who had returned to talking to each other wordlessly) and opened the blue book.  
  
On the inside cover was a message written in large black letters. "IF YOU READ THIS AND YOUR NAME ISN'T RON WEASLEY, YOUR FACE WILL BECOME AS SPOTTY AND POCMARKED AS YOUR SOUL!" This caused Ron to raise an eyebrow and chuckle, wondering is the spell she had put on the book would really relate face-to-soul-spottiness. If it did, he'd like to see Malfoy read it. He would surely come out unrecognizable. Ron turned to the first page, the writing was that of a Hermione he remembered.  
  
_"Dear Ron,  
Well, this is totally outrageous. I just got back from the New York Owl Post Office, and the smallest size letter to England costs 25 Galleons! That is totally outlandish! How can they charge that much! And the Muggle post isn't much better, so I can't even send you a letter through Harry's family! Ooooh, I could just scream!  
So I guess this will have to suffice. But I just feel horrible that I can't even tell you what's going on. You probably think I hate you. And I don't blame you, if I didn't get a letter from you or Harry all summer, I'd be outraged. I'm so so very sorry about this. Really, Ron, I think I might die not being able to talk to you all summer!  
I've been here for about a week-  
_ She had already met that Jamie person, Ron found himself thinking.

_And the city is unbelievable. It's soooooo big! I have never been surrounded by so many tall buildings before! It's all so modern and shiny and bright. I love it here. I really do.  
I have to take a taxi everywhere. I'm not sure if I like that. It's rather expensive after a while. But I generally go with other people, and they've taken to paying for the fare. Especially my uncle. Oh, I should explain him. He's not my uncle by blood, but by marriage. And he's a wizard. Isn't that a weird coincidence? Yes it is. I didn't even know until last summer. Their family was visiting us for a week and I found my cousin pacing around the kitchen by wand light. Then we decided to play a joke on our parents; we did magic at breakfast, which was unusual for both families when we have company. Actually, she was the one doing magic, as she was already of age in America. I wish you could have seen their faces. It was priceless.  
I really like working with my uncle. We're doing research for my uncle's company, developing a new Muggle safe guard that could change how a lot of things are done. Like the World Cup. This could make hiding big events a lot easier. Unfortunately, research has come upon a few snags. I won't bore you with the details here, but we're always kept on our toes.  
Central Park is beautiful. I went there the other day to relax a bit, and it was really great. I wish you could see all of this! You'd really like it, Ron!  
Well, I'm rather tired. It's about 12 o'clock here, and I have to be up at 5. Well, I'll write more later. I miss you so much!!!!  
Love from:  
Hermione."_  
  
This letter cheered Ron, it felt like he was taking this trip with her. That's what he had wanted all summer. He tossed himself down on his bed and read the next letter, and the one after that, and after that before his eyelids grew heavy. Finally, he fell asleep with the notebook open to a page whose writing was sloppier than the others. It read, barely legible, _"Je ne peux pas te dire, c'est un secret, je ne devrais pas te dire, mais je t'aime. Et j'aime le champagne."_  
  
-----  
  
Hermione sat on her bed, eyes on a Muggle photograph sitting midst other photographs like it. She strummed idly at her guitar, an idea forming in her head as the moments passed. Finally, she played a chord, smiled, and began to sing.  
  
"Dear Jamie, I've got a letter I would like to send....."  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Well, the first chapter of what should prove to be a very interesting story. Please please pretty please review and I will love you forever! Okay, maybe not, but I'll definetly give you a cookie. Anyhoo, next chapters in the next few days. Tell me what you think!


	2. A Moviescript Ending

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. If that happens to change, I'll inform you. But it won't, so we don't have to worry about it, now do we? Warnings: None for this chapter, either. Just good, clean fun. Author's Notes: Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed!! It gave me the inspiration to get this chapter out so quickly. ::violin music and single tear:: Well, once again, review and tell me what you think!  
  
**Sincerely,  
Me.  
  
** _**Chapter two:**  
With your hand on my shoulders, a meaningless movement,** a** **moviescript ending  
**_  
It was the first time in a long time they didn't all arrive at the station together. In fact, Ron didn't see Harry or Hermione until he was safely on platform 9 ¾. And then, it was only a glimpse of the back of Harry's head as he boarded the train. After realizing it was useless to call out, Ron had sighed and bid his mother farewell for the hundredth time.  
  
"Now don't forget, study hard for your N.E.W.T.s You won't get very far in life if you don't have many N.E.W.T.s." She chided.  
  
"But, mum, Fred and George own their own very successful business, and they never even took the test," Ron had pointed out. Mrs. Weasley smiled.  
  
"Hush, child," she murmured with a proud glint in her eye, then pushed him aboard the train. Ginny smiled at him and hurried off to find the car Harry was in. Ron, as he had for the last two years, walked towards the prefects car. It was already filled with the fifth year perfects, getting their instruction from the ambitious head girl.  
  
"Now, you need to be conscious of what you're doing at all times, as younger students will be looking to you to set an example. We have had problems in the past of prefects who seemed burdened by their titles," she shot a look at Ron, who leaned casually against the doorframe. "But I daresay you all are excited to be prefects, are you not?" There was a murmur of agreement, and Ron stepped into the car.  
  
"Of course, life as a prefect isn't all set an example, don't step out of line, stand up straight, loose all the friends you have. It's a lot more than that. You want to be someone that students feel they can come to for advise if they don't feel comfortable going to a teacher. They need to see you as a peer, as well as an example. That's the paradox that is 'prefect'," he explained, taking his place next to Hermione. She smiled at him with a look that said 'I didn't know you knew what a paradox was.'  
  
Turning back to the fifth years, she explained, "And, now that he has been kind enough to grace us with his presence, I give you this year's head boy, Ron Weasley."  
  
"Thank you, Hermione," Ron said, enjoying the situation. They began explaining the duties of the prefects as the train started out on its journey, and finished around noon. They all left the car, the fifth years heading to their friends cars while Hermione and Ron went to patrol the train. It was the duty of the head boy and girl to peek into each cabin and make sure there were no problems.  
  
When they were a third of the way through the train, Ron felt her eyes burn the side of his face in between the cars. He turned to her like an old friend, but was greeted by a look that didn't quite match. It made his stomach churn again, but all he could do was smile at her.  
  
"You know, you're better at this than I thought you'd be," she explained as they walked to a car full of first years. She checked on them as Ron leaned against the wall, smiling.  
  
"What, did you think I was going to be some babbling idiot? Why Hermione! I'm hurt!" he joked with mock pain. She laughed cherubically twisting Ron's stomach further, but he only smiled at her.  
  
"No at all, Ronald, I just thought you might resent it a bit," she responded, opening the next door and checking on some sixth years. After closing the door, she jabbed his stomach playfully, "You know, like you did being made prefect." It was then that they both realized how close their faces were. They lingered for a moment, in the limbo between friends and something more, before Ron coughed and opened the next door.  
  
-----  
  
It was nearly one thirty by the time they walked into their usual cabin in the back of the train, greeted by Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna. This group of six had been close friends ever since the ordeal at the ministry two years before, just like Harry, Ron and Hermione had been friends ever since the troll in first year. Certain things would bond people, and nearly dying was one of them.  
  
"You won't believe what just happened!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly as they sat down. "Malfoy came by."  
  
"Actually, I do believe that," Ron muttered sarcastically. "It wouldn't be a ride on the Hogwarts Express if Malfoy and the goon squad didn't feel the need to show their ugly mugs in our-"  
  
"Actually," Harry interrupted, "It was just Malfoy. No goon squad. And he was different. Way different."  
  
"How so?" Hermione inquired, looking intrigued. It was very rare to see Malfoy by himself; he was generally surrounded by at least 3 other people. Maybe he had problems, but they couldn't bring themselves to care. That was just Malfoy. Needless to say, this new development had piqued their interest.  
  
"If I dare use this word in relation to our own Draco Malfoy, he seemed... humbled," Harry elaborated. Hushing a shocked look from Ron, he continued. "And it gets better. He basically offered up a truce. Not a personal truce, but... political was the word he chose."  
  
"I think the phrase he used was 'My father and I don't see quite eye to eye anymore.'" Ginny took over. "I think something happened over the summer. His robes weren't looking as pristine and his hair wasn't styled. Like he hasn't been living in the Malfoy mansion."  
  
"Which, something tells me, might just be the case," Harry agreed. Hermione looked thoughtful and Ron looked shocked.  
  
"Wait," he said. "Wait just one minuet here. Are you telling me _Draco Malfoy_ is on our side now?" Everyone looked quiet, no one wanted to admit that the impossible seemed to have happened.  
  
"That... seems to be the case," Harry admitted after a few moments.  
  
"And we're just going to believe him?!" Ron sputtered. "After everything he's done! Harry, don't you remember how he SET YOU UP last year! He wanted you dead, and you would have been if-"  
  
"If he hadn't let it slip that something was waiting for me in Hogsmead. Remember that part?" Harry couldn't believe he was sticking up for that.. that.. Malfoy! But he had no choice. "I don't think he wanted me as dead as we all thought. I didn't tell anyone, but I saw him over the summer. He was glad that I hadn't died. Said that something would've been missing from Hogwarts. And as much as I hate to admit it, if he were gone, we'd all feel that something was missing."  
  
"Yeah, an annoyance!" Ron scoffed. This couldn't be happening. Malfoy was not a good person. That was just one of the things that didn't change. One of the things that made Hogwarts the place it was for him. Malfoy just couldn't be good.  
  
"You didn't see him," Neville said quietly. It was the first thing he had said since Ron and Hermione had returned. "You didn't see the way he said those things. Like he really meant them. Like it hurt to say them, but that he meant every word. And I don't give Draco Malfoy that much credit as an actor. We have to believe him." This seemed to quiet Ron for a moment.  
  
"He said it wasn't a personal truce?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So, he's still gonna give us hell."  
  
"Most likely."  
  
"He just isn't going to...."  
  
"Help Voldemort anymore. Or his father."  
  
"And if Dumbledore needs help? An insider look at the goings on?"  
  
"I guess Malfoy will help."  
  
".....Weird..."  
  
"You're telling me."  
  
The car was silent for a few minutes, everyone wrestling with their own thoughts, trying to believe that Malfoy might be on their side for once. Or maybe they had other thoughts to wrestle. Ron caught Hermione looking at him out of the corner of her eye. The same look she had given him in the hallway. What was with her? Why was she looking at him like that? Was she trying to tell him something? Was she going to play a horrible joke on him? The look did have a rather secretive quality to it. That was it, she had some terrible joke that she would unleash upon him when he was least expecting it and he would be forced to suffer unspeakable humiliations and everyone would laugh and laugh and point and laugh and- wait. That didn't seem like a very Hermione thing to do. That was a Fred and George thing to do. And Hermione didn't like Fred and George things. What could it be, then? What kind of secret could she have? And why the bloody HELL did she keep looking out of the corner of her eye?!?! Ron was about to accuse her of something after a fourth look when Luna spoke. Most of them had forgotten she was there, per usual, so more then one jumped at her detached voice.  
  
"I saw him this summer," she mentioned. As if it were no big deal to break a silence like that; though it probably wasn't for her. "In Diagon Ally. It was a few weeks ago. He was walking around with this girl, smiling a whole lot. It was strange to see him smile like that. Also strange because I knew the girl. She was in Ravenclaw a few years ago. Odd for Malfoy to enjoy being with her, considering how he is."  
  
"Why is that?" Ron inquired, tiring of her round about way of storytelling.  
  
"Oh" Luna said, as if just remembering she was talking to people. "Because she's a half blood. Her father is a Muggle. I really thought Malfoy hated people who aren't pure blooded."  
  
"He does," Hermione assured. "Or, at least, he did. This might have something to do with his new change." A few of them nodded in agreement, and the car was silent again. The silence lingered for nearly ten minuets, before they started idly chatting again. The only one who didn't join in was Hermione, who looked like she had something on her mind. In fact, she didn't speak to them again until they reached the Great Hall for the feast.  
  
-----  
  
They walked into the Great Hall as a group, the way they always had and steered toward the Gryffindor table as Luna parted with a dreamy wave, wandering to Ravenclaw. As they walked further, Hermione started to walk slower. Finally she came to a complete stop. Ron stopped too, almost immediately.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked. She looked up at him, as if seeing him for the first time. It took him a moment to notice the tears in her eyes. She smiled pitifully at him, trying to hide her sadness.  
  
"I just realized that it's almost over," she explained. "This is the last time I'll walk into the Great Hall on the first day for the feast. This is the last feast we'll all be at together. This is our last year here, then we have to go out and..." she trailed off, and for the first time since she had returned, Ron saw that she wasn't all that grown up after all. She was just as afraid as he was of leaving. He smiled slightly, putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Well, then, let's make it the best year ever," he tempted. She smiled brightly at him, the tears forgotten. At this moment, Harry trotted up.  
  
"What's up, guys?" he asked in a concerned voice, seeing Hermione's tears. Ron shook his head.  
  
"Nothing much, just... anxious about where we'll be this time next year," he explained. Harry nodded as they started walking again.  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean. this place is kind of a safe haven for me. Like we can't really be touched here, not by the Dark wizards waiting out there. But after this year, we won't have that. It'll just be them and us, the whole time. No breaks or anything. I can't exactly say I'm looking forward to it." Ron nodded silently and suddenly didn't envy his friend at all. He had spent his whole summer helping the Order, sensing out with his Legilimency what move You-Know-Who would make next. Most of the time he couldn't just sit at the Headquarters, either. He had to be in harms way, fighting for his life every day. He hadn't told them much about the actual missions and battles, but whether that was because they were confidential or just because he didn't want to relive them was yet to be seen.  
  
Now seated, Ron noticed Hermione glaring up at the staff table with a mix between shock, confusion and anger. He followed her stare to the newest staff member, presumably the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.  
  
"Wow, he's young," Ron noticed. Hermione was silent. "Wonder if he knows that the job is jinxed?" he wondered. No response. "Hopefully he'll last. This school really needs a good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Still she was silent. "Then again, he looks so young, I doubt he really knows what he's doing."  
  
"Oh, I assure you, he does," Hermione responded with venom, still not removing her angry glare from the teacher who was chatting idly with Professor Flitwick.  
  
"How do you know that?" Ron asked with curiosity. She wouldn't look at him, but mumbled something about Dumbledore not hiring a bumbling idiot. He was about to bring up Lockhart when he got the distinct impression that the conversation was over. He was overcome with an awkwardness for a moment before the new first years were let in. Professor McGonagall set down the stool and the Sorting Hat, which began with a song nothing out of the ordinary. Ron listened carefully for hidden warnings, but found only the description of each House and the students in them. He clapped with everyone else when the song was finished and watched the anxious first years step forward as their names were called. "Arenstien, Carla" became the first new Gryffindor of the year and Ron whooped and yelled with the rest as she joined their table, looking relieved. The Sorting was probably the least eventful of their whole Hogwarts lifetime, which slightly disappointed Ron. He wanted their last year to begin with a bang. Then again, looking at Hermione greet new Gryffindor "Thomas, Evan" with a grin, he realized that this was the perfect start. Every year the had been their, something drastic and bad happened in the Sorting or the Great Feast, but this final year, they might get to, at last, enjoy their meal like regular students. Ron smiled, shaking "Verot, Emily"s hand as the last two people were Sorted into Ravenclaw and Slytherin.  
  
The Hall grew quite as Dumbledore stood. "A few words before we begin our excellent Feast. To those of you here for the first time: Welcome! For those of you returning: Welcome back! We have a new member of our staff this year, who will be bestowing upon you the knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Please welcome Professor Ross." The young professor stood slightly and waved to the students before sitting again. Ron heard Parvati and Lavender whispering and Hermione making and angry "humph!" as the Professor looked in their direction. Dumbledore didn't see any of this and continued with his speech. "Please make him feel welcome this year. And, as always, the Forbidden forest is forbidden, meaning that it is off limits to all students. Now, with that taken care of, Tuck in!"  
  
Their food appeared magically, as it always did, and Ron grabbed a turkey leg, eating hungrily. They had missed the food cart again on the train, so he hadn't had a descent meal since breakfast. Harry ate at a normal rate, talking softly to Ginny, who was laughing at some story. Neville was catching up with Dean and Seamus, who had spent a portion of their holiday together in Australia. Hermione had gone back to glaring at the new Professor Ross. Only this was able to slow Ron's rate of food consumption, and he watched an odd exchange out of the corner of his eye. Ross looked over at their table again, saw Hermione's glare and smiled slightly. He raised his glass at her, causing her to look around, then frown even more. This teacher laughed slightly, then went back to chatting with Professor Flitwick. Before he realized that she was looking, she had seen him watching her. She tried to smile at him, but only managed to twitch her cheek.  
  
"I don't like the new Professor," she stated obviously. Ron laughed.  
  
"Yeah, I can tell that, but I can't think of why. You haven't even met him yet. We haven't had any classes or anything." Ron observed. Hermione blushed, shrugging quietly then turned to her meal and ate in silence. Ron again lapsed into awkwardness until Harry asked him what he thought of the new first years, and they began discussing the merits of eleven year olds.  
  
-----  
  
Hermione's temper seemed shorter as they led the first years up to Gryffindor tower. "You'll need to be back in the tower every night by 8 o'clock. In the Common Room, you can study, which I suggest you do; or you can just relax" she added under her breath "Which is what most of you will end up doing." shaking her head, she continued. "The perfects will be happy to help you with any problems you have, be they school related or personal. Please don't be afraid to come and ask for help." The irony was, she was saying all this with such venom that many of the first years looked as though they might be afraid to talk to her. "You will be receiving your schedules tomorrow, and your classes will begin then. The castle is very large and you will probably get lost but.. If.." she suddenly seemed to loose steam, and Ron only had to glance at her to know she was in no state to continue, so he finished for her.  
  
"If you do happen to get lost, just ask a perfect where you need to be, we'll all be happy to help. If there are no perfects, then just ask a portrait. They are all very happy to help out students. And don't worry if you get lost, it happens to everyone. In my first year, I think Harry and I got lost every day in our first week. But eventually you learn your way around. Ah, here we are, Gryffindor tower!" They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait. "To get in, you just have to tell the Fat Lady the password, and she let you in. This year's password is Bamboozle. Please, don't write it down, if you have trouble remembering things, just stay in a group until you know it. And, if you get locked out, just wait and someone will eventually come in or out. If the password has to for any reason be changed, Hermione or I or one of the perfects will tell you. Now, boys follow me to your dorm, girls, follow Hermione."  
  
They walked up the spiral staircase leading to the dormitories, up to the top where last years seventh years had spent their Hogwarts days. The door now said "First year boys" in swirlly writing and Ron opened the door.  
  
"You'll find all your things in there already. If you have any questions or problems, don't hesitate to come and get me, I'm in the fourth room down the staircase." He closed the door and knew that the boys, there were five of them this year, would not come to bother him that night. They, like all first years, would fall into their beds the second they had changed, and sleep until they had to wake. He couldn't blame them, they had had a very busy day. In fact, he could use a good sleep right about now. But something was bothering him.  
  
The Common Room was already near empty when he walked down into it. She was there, just like he knew she would be, carefully knitting by the fire. Or, rather, her needles were knitting and she was reading a thick book.  
  
"You're not still on about that house elf thing, are you?" Ron asked, sitting by her in a cushy chair. She looked up absently.  
  
"Freeing all the Hogwarts house elves? No. Dobby just takes everything. I stopped that sometime last year, went down to the house elves and talked with them and everything. I can tell that they really don't want to be freed, so I promised them that I wouldn't leave any clothes on purpose, and that if I left any accidentally, they could pretend they hadn't picked it up."  
  
"So you've given up, eh?" Ron said with a smirk.  
  
"Oh good heavens, no!" she exclaimed, turning a page in her book, "I just won't try and free them myself. I may not even try and free them. All I want to make sure of is that they aren't mistreated. I guess when I'm older and have more of an impact at the Ministry I'll try and get them to pass some Elfish Welfare laws. But until I'm older and taken more seriously, I can't do anything, really. They don't want to be freed, and I can't force them to take freedom."  
  
"It's really about time you realized that. I've been trying to tell you since you started on about this whole thing," he joked, but soon saw her face harden.  
  
"Well, then, doesn't that make you smart," she said coldly. Ron frowned, trying to decipher this change in mood. Not getting very far, he looked at her knitting.  
  
"A sweater," he stated, its form very clear. "Wow, Hermione, you've gotten really good at that!" He expected her to beam at him proudly, but she just absently flipped the page in her book. "What are you knitting it for?" She shrugged.  
  
"It's a hobby. I'm doing it for the sake of doing it. Like you and your chess, it has no point but you-"  
  
"Chess has a point and I thought you of all people would know it!" Ron exclaimed. "It sharpens your mind, helps you think things through! Why do you think Harry and I always play on the nights before tests? Because we want to avoid studying? Partially, but mostly because it helps you think." He paused for breath. "But it's not something perfect Hermione would do to study, so obviously it doesn't help anyone in anyway ever." He looked at her, daring her to strike back. But she just sat there for a moment, then closed her book.  
  
"I don't feel like fighting with you tonight, Ron," she stated weakly, sending him a deadly look. She waved her wand and the knitting ceased, then she stood and looked at Ron again. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night."  
  
She walked away, leaving confusion in her wake. Usually quarrelling with him would take her mind off of whatever was bothering her long enough to be able to think clearly about it. Why else would he have jumped on her about something as stupid as chess? But she wasn't having it. This had never happened before, and he didn't know if he could handle it. Sighing, he stood and walked slowly up to his dorm. Not saying a word to Harry, who sat quietly cleaning his broom, Ron slipped into his pajamas and climbed into bed, remembering the little blue notebook. He decided to read another letter, just to put him in a better mood before going to bed.  
  
_ "Ron!!  
I can't believe I'm about to do this! Jamie just convinced me to join his band. I know! That is so not something I would do! But.... Somehow, it's something I want to do. We're meeting up tomorrow after work, then we'll ... do whatever it is bands do. Play songs, I guess. I really cannot believe I'm going to do this.  
I miss you a lot. I can just hear your voice in my head right now, asking me who I am and what did I do to your Hermione. It's what you were thinking wasn't it? Don't deny, you know I know you better than you know yourself. I wish you were here right now. You or Harry or Ginny or all of you, because I need to talk to someone who really knows me. See, things have been going on. Things that I don't understand. Things that should not be happening in my summer of research and working. I wish I could talk to someone! I'm half tempted to call Harry's family, even though the call would be really expensive and there's a chance they wouldn't even let me talk to him. ...I'm being weird and vague, aren't I? Well, I'm going to stop that. I'll write more later.  
With love,  
HermioneXOXO"_  
  
The plan had backfired and Ron's mood was worse. What could have happened? Why did she so desperately want to talk to someone? Why had she changed the way she usually wrote? Why in the bloody hell did she join a band? A million other questions raced through his head and it was an hour, after Dean and Seamus came to bed and Harry put his broom away, before Ron finally drifted into a fitful sleep.  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
Wheeee! Chapter two is done! Review and I will be oh so happy. And when I'm happy I write more! 


	3. A Fated Attraction

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Really. Even my character, I'm sure that's already liscenced by someone else. That's just the way it works. Maybe someday I'll be like Michlle Jackson and buy it, then make sure none of you write fan fiction again!!!! Ahahahaha! Just kidding, fools, I'd just parnce around saying how I don't have to put a disclamer and you do. Alas, that day has not yet come, so I don't own anything!  
  
Warnings: This chapter contains sexual innuendo, a bit, and mild name calling. Still pretty PG. Maybe PG-13.  
  
Author's notes: Sorry this chapter took a bit longer then I expected, but it's out now. I'll try my hardest to have the next one out tomorrow to make up for it. Now, reviewers! Thank you oh-so-much! Special thanks time!  
  
Commodore Norrington: Thanks a bundle for your feedback. All I can say is I'm not trying to be subtle with some things. v  
  
Momo: Lovely enthusiasm!!! You have reviewed the most, so you get a cookie. ::gives Momo a cookie::  
  
Miao: Yay! The whorehouse bit goes out to you, kiddo! v  
  
To everyone else who reviewed (I don't have enough space to point out everyone ;;;) thanks so much! It's lovely reviewers who keep me writing when all I want to do is sit on the couch and obsessively watch VH1. It's like crack, people! Commentary show crack!!!!!  
  
And now, on with the show!  
  
**Sincerely,  
  
Me  
  
_Chapter three  
_**_ ** A fated attraction**  
_  
_ The sun rose, morning broke, she opened her eyes and she was changed.  
  
The sun was high, they laughed at a joke, she opened her eyes and she was changed  
  
The sun dipped down, they danced and drank, she opened her eyes and she was changed.  
  
The sun was gone, the city slept, she opened her eyes and she was changed  
  
Then closed her eyes again and she was still the same._  
  
Hermione lowered her quill, looking at the words it had left on the page. Not like anything she had written before. Brows furrowed, she scratched a word, then another and another until the page was black. But covering it up wasn't enough, she tore the page from her little blue notebook, with doodles on the cover and letters to a friend contained inside. Taking the page, she withdrew her wand, muttering a charm and setting the paper alight. It burned blue and hot, up to her hands until her fingers couldn't take the heat and it dropped to the ground, leaving an ugly scorch on her new friend's carpet. She stared at the black pile of ash until her eyes burned the sight of it into her memory. Orange morning light spilled into the apartment through a picture window as she picked up her jacket, leaving a kiss on his still-sleeping lips and walked into the New York dawn. Seated in a back of a taxi cab, she opened the notebook again, scribbling a note to her most trusted friend.  
  
Three months later, he sat on the end of his bed as orange morning light spilled into the dormitory from a picture window, a little blue notebook seated on his lap. He stared at the words, as if defying them to make him believe what they said.  
  
_I never meant for any of this to happen. And never in a million years did I think it would. I don't regret what I have done. My only fear is that you might be ashamed of me when you find out.  
God, I think this city is getting to me._  
  
What did any of that mean? He barely recognized the handwriting, it was not her style, it was not her. What had happened to her?  
  
Brows furrowed, Ron set the notebook on his nightstand with a picture of him, Harry and Hermione from third year. He straightened his red and gold Gryffindor house tie, pulled his robe on and headed down to the Great Hall for the first breakfast of the term.  
  
-----  
  
"So there I am, caught between two of the most dangerous wizards of the day, and they still don't have a clue who I am. So I say to one of them, 'Interesting weather we're having, isn't it?' and he nods and says 'Yeah, me wife keeps complaining that she can't go outside for the rain, or the heat. Bloody woman wouldn't leave me alone about it.' and I nod, quite sympathetically, as I'm supposed to be this man's friend, but he just looks at me and says 'Well, aren't you going to make a comment about me wife?' and without thinking I say 'Why? She's a lovely woman?' and I realize that this was a mistake. They look at me, and I look at them and for a moment I thought the whole mission was lost and I'd die right there when an incredible thing happened. The first bloke starts _laughing_! He thought I was making a joke! So we laugh and laugh right until the lift doors open and he's jumped by Mad Eye and Lupin!" Harry finished he's story to laughs from at least ten Gryffindors and Luna Lovegood. Ron was guffawing with the best of them when Hermione walked up, looking agitated.  
  
"Well?" she snapped at Ron, a cross look written over her face. Oh where had the laid-back, new and improved Hermione he met in Diagon Ally gone?  
  
"Well what?" Ron asked, taking a big bite of toast. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"Honestly, Ron! Have you forgotten your duties already?!" she ranted as Ron stuffed an entire roll in his mouth, to the amusement of a few second year girls. "We have to pass out the schedules to the House prefects so they can deliver them to the students!"  
  
"Ahlrdeeihit" Ron mumbled with his mouth full. Hermione threw him a look and he attempted to swallow, but only managed to choke a bit. One of the second year girls patted his back and he managed to get his food down. Coughing, he repeated himself. "You were a bit late, so I passed them out myself. See?" He pointed to the Slytherin table where Draco passed the schedules out to his Housemates. Hermione blushed. "Honestly, Hermione, do you think I don't know how to be Head Boy?" he joked "Why, I'm the third Head Boy in my family. We practically have a manual on the subject at home!" Hermione grinned and let out a small chuckle. "You need to relax, Hermione! Just take things as they come! Isn't that what you were doing this summer?" he asked as they sat down. She shot him a look.  
  
"What do you mean?" her voice was baring on hostile, as if she expected him to reveal some horrible blackmail.  
  
"In your letters. That's what you said you were doing." he explained. Her look faded away.  
  
"Oh, right, that notebook!" she laughed. Harry turned to her at that.  
  
"I finished reading your letters last night!" he said, "sounds like you had a good time this summer-"  
  
"Harry! Finish your story!" a third year girl begged, and Harry turned back to the waiting crowd with a grin to his friends.  
  
"Wow, Harry must read fast," Ron observed, "I haven't even gotten halfway through mine yet." Hermione blushed.  
  
"Best not mention that fact to him," she muttered. "I wrote substantially more to you." Her blush deepened. "You don't speak French, do you?"  
  
"No. But you do. You wrote in it once." She blushed even more.  
  
"Yes, best to ignore that, too. I was.. a bit inebriated at the time. Wrote some rather embarrassing things." Ron chuckled, taking out a piece of parchment and handing it to her.  
  
"Here is your schedule, m'lady," he joked, presenting the parchment like a pristine gift. Hermione laughed and took it.  
  
"Thank you, good sir! A thousand times, thank you!" she joked back. Opening it, her eyes scanned. "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts today!"  
  
"Yeah, we'll finally be able to meet that new teacher!" Ron said. Hermione's eyes flickered up to the staff table.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed. "That'll be nice." -----  
  
As it turned out, they had to sit through N.E.W.T level Transfiguration and Charms before they would be able to meet this new teacher. Both classes began with a lecture on the importance of the N.E.W.T. exams, which they had basically heard for the past three years. First about the O.W.L exams, then about N.E.W.T. level classes, and finally about the last test they'd ever have to take. It seemed to add to the feeling of nostalgia they were all suffering from.  
  
They began Transfiguration this year learning a summoning spell. It was the most difficult thing they had ever had to do. They were supposed to be summoning feathers, a throw back to first year some of them noticed. Not many were having luck with this task, but Hermione had managed a small feather, and a few others summoned bits of fluff.  
  
Charms also began the year with a difficult task; they were to make a bag twice as big on the inside. They class was noisy and fun, as most Charms classes tended to be, and a few people mastered the charm in class. The first, of course, was Hermione, but she was followed closely by Hannah Abbott and, surprisingly, Ron. After the class was over, they headed to the Great Hall for lunch. Ron still had his bag from class and was amusing himself by filling it with things from his book bag.  
  
"You know, I thought that Flitwick would have picked a more difficult charm for the first day of our last year," He noted, putting a jar of ink in the bag with a bemused smile.  
  
"Don't be mad," Hermione scoffed, "that was the most difficult charm we've ever done." Ron stopped and stared at her, causing her to stop as will.  
  
"I thought it was pretty easy," he confessed. She sent him a warm smile.  
  
"Perhaps you've finally come into your own. Found the magic that best suits your ability.," she mused. "It's about time, too."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Ron asked hotly, but he never got a response. Ginny chose that moment to walk up to there group with Luna in tow and a smile on her face.  
  
"We just had class with that new teacher," she said. Everyone perked up.  
  
"And? How was it?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Oh, just lovely. He's got to be the best teacher we've had since Lupin. Maybe even better then him! And get this," She leaned closer to the group, like she had some big secret. "He's an American! From New York City! Apparently, Dumbledore has been so desperate for a good teacher he decided to import one!" With that, the group burst into excited chatter.  
  
It was not much later that they ran into another familiar face. Draco Malfoy's sneer seemed less pronounced than it generally had been. Ron and Hermione saw what their friends had been talking about; he looked less cared for, his hair was longer and unstyled and his robes were getting tattered.  
  
"Well well, look who made it to their final year," he sneered. "I must say, I am surprised. Figured you all would have left by now" He looked at Neville, "For sure I thought you'd be discovered as a Squib! Guess not." Before Neville could respond, Malfoy turned to Harry, "Thought someone would have killed you by now."  
  
"You would've cried and you know it," Harry mocked, "Thanks for saving my life last year, again." Malfoy ignored him, turning to Ron.  
  
"Figured your family would've needed you to make some money for them," he mused. "Maybe sell you to some cheep whorehouse."  
  
"How are the whorehouses this time of year?" Ginny shot. "You frequent them, right?" Malfoy leered at her, a smug grim on his face.  
  
"No, _she's_ the one they'd sell to a whorehouse! She's already a whore, why not make some money off your hobby, right?" Harry had to hold Ron back at this comment, but Malfoy just turned to Hermione.  
  
"And Granger! I was going to say they'd kick you out for being ugly, but somehow you subdued your hideousness over the summer. So, probably just for being a pretensions know-it-all. That seems like a good reason." Feeling satisfied with these insults, Malfoy turned and left, his cackling goons following him.  
  
When they were seated in the Great Hall, Hermione turned to her friends.  
  
"So, who can tell me what was odd about that exchange?" she baited. Ron shrugged.  
  
"It was halfway clever?" he guessed as Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"No, no, he has a running insult with each of us," she pointed out. "he says that Neville's barely a wizard, so the Squib comment. He says Harry is incompetent, so he would have been killed. He insults your whole family unreasonably about money, so the selling you to a whorehouse comment. Which was rather clever, now that you point it out. But what does he usually say about me?"  
  
"Well, he usually calls you a filthy Mudblood," Luna said bluntly, not yet having gone to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione smiled.  
  
"Exactly, Luna!" she exclaimed. "Now, not that I'm complaining, it's a horrible insult, but don't you find it a bit odd?"  
  
"What?" Ron asked, his mouth full of turkey. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"He didn't even mention that I'm Muggle-born! It would have been the perfect opportunity to bring it up, but not a word!" she explained. Harry shrugged.  
  
"So, he's not as clever as we thought. Big deal."  
  
"It's not just this. Remember who Luna said she saw him with this summer?" Ginny continued "An old Ravenclaw half-blood. And he's no longer speaking to his father. Something happened this summer. Something to change Draco Malfoy." Ron stared at her a moment.  
  
"And remind me why we care?" he asked frankly. Hermione's smile fell.  
  
"Well, I guess we don't really have a reason. But it'll probably be important eventually."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. Some insignificant detail like that will be the most important thing. Really. Who pays that much attention?" Ron continued mumbling to himself as he finished his lunch. With something new to occupy her thoughts, Hermione's mood lifted and lunch passed in peace.  
  
-----  
  
No one knew what to expect as they filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom later that afternoon. Some, having heard good things from their friends, walked in hopefully. Others were still skeptical about the young Professor. One Hermione Granger walked in with an attitude problem and two confused best friends in tow. When she laid eyes on the man leaning nonchalantly against his desk in the front of the class, she tripped and nearly fell. Dragging her injured dignity with her, she sat in the middle of the room. Ron and Harry sat next to her, wondering what her problem was. After everyone took their seats, Professor Ross stood and closed the door to his classroom. A hopeful silence fell in the room as he looked out over his students and they looked back at him. Seemingly satisfied, he smiled.  
  
"Welcome to year two N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts," he welcomed, leaning against his desk again. "I'm Professor Ross, your seventh and final teacher, and before you ask, yes my accent is real. I was born and raised in Manhattan.  
  
"But enough about me. Let's get right down to business. You've stayed in this class for six years, suffered six different teachers, learned many things and for many different reasons you remain in this class today. Either because you feel it will further a future career or you just want to learn to defend yourself further. No matter the reason, let me start with this: defense is a lot more than knowing the right counter curse in some situation, or what a certain creature is weak against. It is being able to apply all the things that you have learned here, in all of your classes. It's being able to come into a place you've never been before, meet up with something you've never heard of before and use what you can see to come out on top. It's being able to think on your feet. It's a state of mind. And that's what I want to try and teach you this year. This is where it all comes together."  
  
The end of his speech was greeted with silence as his impassioned words sunk in. After a moment, someone raised their hand.  
  
"Well, excuse me," he began "Mr. American, I'm-barely-older-than-you- but-know-way-more-than-you-do, what reason do you have to teach this class? What experience do you have?"  
  
"Questioning my credibility, that's understandable, Mr..." the Professor said with a smile.  
  
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Ross smiled again, his eyes flicking over the classroom a moment.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, your reputation precedes you. I'm sure we'll get on just nicely," not many detected the slight sarcasm in his voice, but those who did couldn't hide a smirk. "Well, I'll give you the abridged version of my life. I'm 25 as of two months ago and lived most of my life in New York City. My mother was a witch and my father a Muggle. A detective, actually; NYPD. That's a group of Muggle law enforcers," he explained to the confused faces, "I had a pretty ordinary life. Stared at a Muggle school when I was six and magic school at the same time. It met after the Muggle school let out, and that's the way it's done in America. There's very few purely magical schools like Hogwarts there, and they're usually only four years, like Muggle high school. Anyway, after I graduated, that's the important part. I wanted to be like my father; a detective, but I also wanted to use magic in my work and get rid of the dark wizards that were still about, so I became a Presule. That's sort of the American version of Aurors, except we don't have half the reputation. I was in training for two years, and service for three before I decided I wanted to pursue a different life. I moved back to NYC and lived there until two weeks ago when I came here for this job. That about covers it." A few murmurs passed through the class as he finished and one hand shot into the air like it had been waiting a month for this chance. "Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"What were you doing the, what, two years before you came here?" she asked with a spite never seen in her before. Professor Ross smiled at her, crossing his arms.  
  
"That's rather irrelevant. Maybe I'll tell someday, but I really doubt that," he said with finality. "Now, who here has ever been in a situation where they had to use defensive magic?"  
  
The rest of the class was spent with the professor enthusiastically critiquing their past experiences. He was able to get the rest of the class to join him in the situation and point out errors and clever ideas. They were all enjoying themselves and at the end of the class a group of people went to the desk to talk to their new teacher. Ron and Harry found themselves in the line, too, with a stone faced Hermione. They wisely did not ask questions at this point. When the line dwindled down and she stood in front of the desk, they saw a side of her they had not truly seen before. She placed her hands firmly on his desk and looked their teacher in the eye.  
  
"Professor, I would like to talk to you about your class," she spat. He nodded candidly. "I have a few _complaints_ to make." His eyebrows raised and he smiled at her. Ron wondered for a moment how her could smile at her scowl, but when he looked back, her face had softened a bit.  
  
"Come by my office anytime. I'd love to talk to you," he smiled again.  
  
"Right. Well. I'll do that. Yes. Then. I'll see you." she said almost weakly before rushing out of the classroom, leaving Harry and Ron shrugging in her wake.  
  
-----  
  
The mood in the Gryffindor common room that evening was very subdued. Many people were studying or completing homework and those who weren't were relaxing after an eventful first day of classes. A familiar trio was found in front of the fire, completing a Charms essay in comfortable silence. It was about ten o'clock when the silence was broken by Hermione.  
  
"I just thought I should tell you two that you'll have to keep up with your own homework this year," she explained, rolling up two completed feet of parchment. Ron looked up at her.  
  
"What, are you not going to help us anymore?" he asked nervously. Hermione chuckled as she stood.  
  
"No, I'm just not going to nag you about it anymore. I'm done with the bossy annoying know-it-all thing. It's totally over," she announced, putting her book bag in its usual corner as Ron stared holes into her back.  
  
"Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" he joked. Hermione walked back over to their chairs.  
  
"I won't let you fail, but I'm not going to be annoying anymore," she said, knocking Ron on the head as she passed. "Now, I have to go do some things. Oh! And Ron, don't forget, you have-"  
  
"Patrolling duties, I know," he said "I have to make sure there are no miscreants out of bed trying to prove that their teacher is trying to kill them or destroy the world and make sure that there and no dark wizards running about trying to kill any little miscreants who are out of bed. I remember, Hermione. I mean, did you think I was going to forget? Do you have no faith in me at all? That is hurtful. I can't believe you could think so little of me! And don't walk away, I'm still talking!" But she was out of the portrait hole with a backwards wave. He smiled at her back, chuckling a bit before he turned back to the table. Harry and Ginny sat there wearing twin smirks. "What is with the two of you?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing dear brother!" Ginny sang, rolling her eyes.  
  
"You know, we should start a bet," Harry said and she grinned at him.  
  
"I like the way you think!" she agreed. Ron scowled.  
  
"I hate you both."  
  
Another easy silence fell over the group as they turned to their studies. Ron let his mind wander from his essay, as it tended to do and he thought about the encounter with Malfoy. So he had acted a little strange. Big deal. There was only one thing that bothered him about the exchange. One thing he said that really stung. _"No, _she's _the one they'd sell to a whorehouse! She's already a whore, why not make some money off your hobby, right?"_ Ron looked at his sister out of the corner of his eye, seeing what he had ignored for two years. She was different. Her hair was curled perfectly in a disheveled way around her head and her makeup was pristine; smoky eyes and red lips. Her skirt was not the uniform length, but fell mysteriously above her knee. And this new look wasn't the half of it. The hardest thing to ignore had been the rumors. Older boyfriends, secret flings, students were telling hero stories about some hot redhead that couldn't be his sister. Ron still didn't know if he could believe it. He chose to have faith in his sister. If she told him she had been sleeping around herself, then he'd believe it. Not a moment before. A glance at his watch showed him that it was already ten thirty and he had to go and patrol now. Looking down at his half finished essay, Ron stood up despairingly.  
  
"I'll see you all later," he said before gather his things and walking out the portrait hole.  
  
-----  
  
In ten minutes, Ron was already bored with this whole patrolling deal. There was nothing to catch. He knew that. Everyone was too tired from their first day to create mischief. Most people were probably already in bed. That's where he wanted to be. Bed. Not walking around some old castle in the dark, getting lost.  
  
Wait, he wasn't lost. He could be lost. He had been at this school for six years already, he didn't get lost still! However, as he looked around, he realized that he did not recognize his surroundings. This was not good. This was not making his night any better. He tried to find something he recognized, but to no avail. After ten minutes of this, Ron was fed up.  
  
"Bloody hell!!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. Echoing a little too long. It took him a moment to realize he was hearing a conversation. He crept closer to the voices, leaning against a wall. Finally, he was able to make out what was being said.  
  
"Alright! Okay. If this is what you want then you can have it. We'll just pretend we never happened. If that's what you want."  
  
"Good. I'm glad you finally-"  
  
"But, you see, I don't really think it's what you want. You think it's what you should do, so you think it's what you want. But I know that deep down, you want to be with me just as much as I want to be with you. "  
  
"I--I-I mean- I"  
  
"You can't lie to me and you know that. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to be with me."  
  
After that there was silence. Ron suddenly wanted very much to be back in his dormitory, in his bed, sleeping right now. Luckily, he noticed an old suit of armor, telling him that he was close to Gryffindor tower. He set off almost running.  
  
It had been a man talking first. He knew that much for sure. And the other one had been a girl. Other then that, he couldn't tell. He didn't even really know if they said what he thought they had.  
  
He had been an older man. Well, older than her, at least, by the sounds of their voices. And it was wrong for them to be together. He was older.. A professor. And she was a student.  
  
He stopped in his tracks a foot in front of the Fat Lady. A teacher and a student were having an affair.  
  
This goes way above the duties of head boy he thought as he said the password and headed up to his safe bed.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Wooooooooooooooo! Chapter three! Yaaay! I hate computers and the internet and writers block and a number of other things that caused the latness of this chapter. I am very sorry, and I hope it is satisfactory. I have nothing to do tomorrow, so hopefully I will be writing more. Until 9 o'clock. Most to blame for the lateness: I Love the 90s. Because I do! Well, folks, review and love!  
  
Rock! 


	4. The Secret Songbook

Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I do not own Harry Potter. More importanly, for this chapter, I don't own that song. It is a Death Cab for Cutie song, but they are given major props in this chapter, so I don't think they mind. But, if you want some great indie music, check 'em out!

Warnings: Um... nothing, I don't think. If I am worng and something offends you, let me know... Yeah.

Author's Notes: Waaaaaaahhh! This chapter took waaaaay too long to write. Not that it was hard, it just happened to be longer then it started out. Plus, with school starting back up, I have been haning trouble finding time to write. Yeah, I know! My school starts way too early. It hadn't yet (but it will on Friday) but I have been at band camp. Bah! I'm really tired. Like all the time. I did get to go to New York, so that's cool. I jsut realized that you don't care, but that's why this chapter is late. Yah. Oh, and read that song. It is important. I picked it out special, after a long, hard search. It matters to the plot, so don't be a dumb butt like I know I am sometimes and just skip over a song because, hey, it's just a song. Cause this isn't, kids. This isn't. Well, I'll shut up now. Making an already pretty long chapter longer. I should stop that. So! With no further ado, I give you...

**Sincerly,**

** Me**

**_Chapter Four:_**

**_ The Secret Songbook _**

"Hermione!" a voice shouted down the hall. She jerked her head towards the noise, sighing.  
  
"Really, this is getting ridiculous!" she nearly shouted, leaning her head back against the wall with a frustrated grunt. Ron looked around nervously, hoping that she hadn't been heard.  
  
"Keep it down, do you want them to come back?" he asked. She laughed.  
  
"That won't matter if not here to greet them!" she explained, standing and stretching. "Let's go."  
  
"Go where?" he asked, standing. She was already walking towards the giant front doors of the castle.  
  
"Dunno yet," she said, smiling back at him. She grabbed his wrist and they were out the doors.  
  
The day was bright as they raced across the grounds. There were a few students scattered about, but luckily the duo wasn't noticed. Not that they would have cared just then. They were wrapped up in their fun; laughing as they sought out a place they wouldn't be bothered. Suddenly, Hermione stopped, looking down a hill.  
  
"You see that patch of trees down there?" she asked. Ron nodded. "Have you ever seen it before?" As he realized her message, they both smiled.  
  
Neither of them realized how loose the gravel was on the way down. But soon they couldn't ignore it, slipping down and laughing at the spectacle. Then something happened.  
  
To him time whirred in slow motion. She turned with a smile that slowly morphed into a look of shock. There was no sound, nothing was there except for her as she fell in a graceful arc. He saw this before he realized she had slipped and acted before he felt himself move. He didn't know what he was doing; he saw himself dive after her like a spectator; not really there. And so they fell together.  
  
He came to himself when they reached the bottom of the hill. He had taken the brunt of the fall and sustained a few minor cuts and an aching leg. She lay on top of him, coughing through dust, but he could see that she was safe.  
  
None of that mattered, though, as their eyes locked and she smiled. All that he could think of was the distance between them; moving closer with every passing moment.....  
  
-----_Earlier that day_-----  
  
Days at Hogwarts passed uneventfully, for once. The days turned into weeks and soon September was nearing a close. Ron found himself in the Gryffindor common room one Saturday morning, lazing about and trying to complete a Potions essay. He was actually getting somewhere when slightly raised voices broke his concentration.  
  
"No! I don't see why you are all so excited about this! It's not important. And I'm not going to indulge you!"  
  
"Please, Hermione? Pretty please?" Lavender Brown whined as they walked out of the girls dorm into the common room. Hermione was flocked by Lavender, Parvati and Ginny, and Ron noticed that she was holding a little notebook.  
  
"You have to! You just absolutely have to!" Parvati exclaimed, jumping in the air in excitement. Ginny giggled.  
  
"Really, Hermione, just do it! We want to hear because it was good!" she coaxed. "And you know that if you don't we'll just keep bothering you. Give in!" But Hermione did not look like she would give in anytime soon. She sat next to Ron like nothing was going on.  
  
"Good morning, Ron," she greeted cheerfully. Ron stared at her.  
  
"What's all this about?" he inquired as the other three grouped around her. She attempted to ignore them.  
  
"All what ab-" she began.  
  
"We found a songbook and it's really good and she should sing one for us but she's being mean!" Parvati explained. Ron raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Songbook?" he asked Hermione. She blushed a little, clutching the little notebook to her chest.  
  
"Yes. I write songs from time to time. No big deal," she mumbled, knowing that she had lost Ron to the dark side.  
  
"Well, how do they know that what you write is good?" he asked.  
  
"Lavender read one," Parvati said enthusiastically. "It was really good and she almost cried. Because it was good, not because it was so bad that she wanted to cry. It was moving, and it moved Lavender to tears, almost. She-"  
  
"Thank you, Parvati," Hermione interrupted, rubbing her temple. "Yeah, I wrote a few songs. But it's no big deal. There not that good. I don't want people-"  
  
"Seeing that you have feelings?" Parvati suggested.  
  
"Knowing that you're more than just a brain?" Lavender continued. Hermione glared at them both.  
  
"Learning the interworkings of my psyche, actually," she said, though the sarcasm was lost on them. "Plus, their not really all that good. People would laugh. Not that I care, but I doubt anyone here wants to hear my stupid songs." She stood, nodding at the two of them. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going down to breakfast." With that, she walked out. Ron looked down at his unfinished essay, let out a sigh and climbed out the portrait hole after her.  
  
They walked in silence for a minute, before Ron threw her a childish grin. She shot back an annoyed glare, which he took in stride. The silent look-giving continued for a moment before Ron let out a laugh. She glared at him.  
  
"You think this whole thing is funny. My emotions out on the line is just so freaking hilarious, isn't it?" she said, almost genuinely angry. Ron smiled.  
  
"Not at all. They're way out of line," he said, trying to keep on her good side today. "I just never thought you would do something so... not Hermione. You have a book of songs!" All he got for this comment was a softened glare. "Can I see it?" he asked hopefully. Her glare intensified.  
  
"No. It's private-"  
  
"Well I know that. I just thought, you know, since I am your best friend," he coaxed. She put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Ron, I really don't want anyone seeing these. I know the people here and it'd be taken way out of context. Plus, I really don't think they're that good," she sighed. "It seems I'm the only one who thinks that, though." She suddenly wasn't there anymore. Well, she was physically there; her hand still sitting heavily on his shoulder, but her mind was halfway across the world. He smiled.  
  
"Hermione?" he said, bringing her out of her stupor. "Your secret songbook can stay a secret." she smiled back at him, tagging him lightly on the arm.  
  
"I knew I could count on you" she admitted. They started towards the Great Hall again, looking at the other out of the corner of their eyes. "You do realize that this means you have to save me from the privacy invaders now."  
  
"Does it?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yup. Until they get bored with this or..." she trailed off for a moment. "Or heaven forbid they actually convince me to sing for them!"  
  
They laughed at their private joke as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.  
  
-----  
  
The Quidditch pitch was bright and green as the Gryffindor team walked out for their first practice of the season. The first game wasn't for another few months, but their captain had suggested starting early. He had suggested a lot of things, including adding a few reserve players, in case the games got as interesting as they had in the past. The team had changed a lot since first year, the only person still there was Harry (who had, of course, been made captain). Also on the team was Ron; the greatly improved, almost-as-good-as-Wood-now Keeper (he had only needed a bit of confidence, as it seemed.) The Chasers were Ginny, a third year girl named Emma Bell (she was Katie's cousin and lacked none of the older girl's talent) and surprisingly Denis Creevey. The Beaters from fifth year, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper had increased quite a bit in talent (though were still nothing when compared to Fred and George). In reserve was Natalie MacDonald, a fifth year; Daniel Rodgers, a second year; and Sarah Petters (in her fourth year). They all trained hard and tried their best, giving them the makings of a pretty good team.  
  
Practice started out well, no spectators or interruptions to speak of, and the teammates were enjoying their workout and the beautiful day. It wasn't until the sun was fairly high overhead that a little dot of a person meandered into the stands. Ron could see from the heights that it was Hermione, and he motioned to Harry.  
  
"Rodgers!" the captain called, "Take over as Keeper for a turn!" As Rodgers flew into position, Ron flew down to his melancholy friend.  
  
"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked. She looked up at him with a somber glance.  
  
"You won't believe what they've been putting me through," she muttered. "They're relentless! Really, I don't see what the big deal is. And they refuse to leave me alone. So I figured I'd lay low here for a while. Is that alright?" she asked him with hopeful eyes. He smiled meaningfully at her.  
  
"Of course!" he said. "Why, you're the best friend of the Captain and one of the star players! Why shouldn't you be allowed to sit in on practices from time to time?" She smirked meanly at him, making him laugh. "Really, Hermione, stay as long as you need." He began to fly back up, but her voice stopped him.  
  
"Oh, Ron!" she said shortly. "I really don't think they'll find me here, but if they do, and there isn't much of practice left, do you think, well, you.. could..." She trailed off, and he smiled at her, slowly rising into the air.  
  
"No problem," he told her with a grin.  
  
Hermione's theory that she wouldn't be found was proven wrong an hour later. Ron looked down at her during a lull in his action to find that she was now accompanied by a few other people. After motioning to Harry and getting Rodgers to fill in for him again, Ron flew down to see what was going on.  
  
"For the last time! I'm not going to sing for you! Piss off!!" Hermione nearly shouted. The group consisted of girls like Parvati and Lavender, all in Gryffindor and all gossip queens. Of course, the older two were their leaders, and the little ones followed them everywhere. Lavender was the one who spoke for the group this time.  
  
"Please, 'Mione! I don't see why you won't! These songs are really good-"  
  
"You read one song! How can you possibly know if all the songs are good?!" Hermione seemed really worked up, and Ron decided it was time to step in.  
  
"What seems to be the problem, ladies?" he asked suavely. Parvati glared at him.  
  
"Same as always. She won't sing one of her songs! And we can't understand why!" she whined, with murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd. Ron shook his head.  
  
"Well, that's her prerogative. Now, really, you're bothering our practice," he said in hopes that they would leave. "If you want to sit and watch quietly, by all means, stay. But if you're going to yell and disrupt you really ought to do it somewhere else." His idea that they would leave were soon confirmed as the group dispersed; some staying to watch the practice and others looking for a more fulfilling way to spend their Saturday. Ron turned to Hermione with a wink and a grin. "So how was that, Miss Perfect Head Girl? Was I strict enough with them?" She smiled back at him.  
  
"Well, Mister Head Boy, I'd say you're finally getting the hang of this discipline stuff," she played back. "I think you are actually starting to deserve that title!"  
  
"Now let's see, I'm the one who's good with the students, but I'm getting good at being mean to them," he said, mock thinking as he hovered by his best friend. "So I think in order for our balance to be kept, you need to work on your people skills. Otherwise, you're just really unnecessary!" He was sent a soft glare and a play punch on the arm. Going with their goofy exchange, he pretended to almost slip off his broom. She rolled her eyes. It was then that they were noticed.  
  
"Ron!" Harry shouted down. "Stop flirting and get back to practice!" The pair sent a blushed grin at each other.  
  
"I'll be back to play bodyguard again in ten minutes," Ron said, drifting upwards. "Really. We don't have much practicing left to do. I don't know what his problem is!" Eyes were rolled at him and he smirked in return, taking his post as Keeper once more.  
  
-----  
  
"So really, Hermione, what's so secret and important about these songs?" Ron asked as the pair walked down an inane corridor in the sprawling castle. Hermione shuffled her feet in response.  
  
"Well, I guess I'm afraid that they'd be too transparent," she said. Ron raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" he probed. "And didn't you sing them this summer in that band?" He tried not to laugh at the idea of her in a band. How had that happened!  
  
"Well, yes, I did sing them then," she said. "But that was to people who didn't know me; to strangers. If I were to sing to them to the people who were around me when I wrote them, I'd be worried that they would know what I was writing about. You see?" Ron nodded.  
  
"That does make sense," he agreed. "But I doubt you could get the P and L crew to see it your way. I think you'll just have to ride this one out. They'll find something else interesting to do by Monday, I promise." She smiled at him and they walked in silence for a while.  
  
This was how Ron liked it. The days that they weren't fighting and they just talked like this. Or rather didn't talk. This silence passed so peacefully, like there was no place better in the world. They could both think with a clear head when they lapsed into silences like these. Ron always got his best thinking done in her silence. Not that he minded the arguing. It was the best way to get out pent up anger, and he didn't have to worry about them being mad at each other later. They both used their fights as therapy, so as long as they didn't say something stupid, they would be good.  
  
Thinking about all of this, he wondered how much she really had changed over the summer. Certainly she had her differences, but all in all she was the same person. Only.. He had the feeling that she hadn't been the same person in New York. Something about being back in her home made her change back into her old self, but when she first arrived she was not herself at all. And her letters! The longer she was in New York, the less she sounded like his best friend. Those letters, while often capturing her mood and memories in an entertaining fashion, often left him guessing at what had really happened.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione stopped shortly with a slight 'oh!' She turned to him and smiled.  
  
"I have something for you!" she said cheerfully. She opened up her book bag and began rummaging. "You see, I remembered how good you were at the first charm we learned this year, and I got to thinking. You've always been pretty good at charming objects, so I got you... ah ha!" she pulled a think book out of the bag. "This!" She handed it to him with a smile and he looked at the cover. _A Charmed Life: 1001 advanced charms to enhance your possessions_. "It's a bunch of interesting charms that you can do to things. I know I said I wasn't going to nag about school work, and I'm not. This is just something I thought you might enjoy." He smiled at her.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione!" he said genuinely. "I'll have to look at it later."  
  
They lapsed back into silence while he flipped through the pages of the tome.  
  
"Hey! A Hover Charm! Wow, that's going to be fun!"  
  
So much for silence.  
  
-----  
  
At lunch, they decided to brave the Great Hall for some food. Ron saw the gossip kids and attempted to steer away from them, but it was impossible. Harry, Ginny and Neville were all sitting by them, and Ron didn't want to let these horror-wenches ruin his meal or conversation, so they sat.  
  
"So? Are you reasonable yet?" Lavender asked with a pout. Hermione scoffed and Ron rolled his eyes. He had finally had enough of this.  
  
"Didn't you girls every think that maybe there was a reason she doesn't want to play for you?" he asked, nearing anger. "Maybe some of the songs are too personal, maybe she doesn't want you knowing everything she's ever felt!" They stared at him with varying degrees of shock. Parvati was the first to speak.  
  
"Uhh.... Dur?" she said ironically. "Come on! Of course we know that! Listening to someone sing is better then reading their diary!" That had crossed the line in Hermione's eyes. She shook her head, grabbed a sandwich and stood.  
  
"Good day to you, girls," she said coolly. Before anyone could speak, she was off. Ron was tempted to follow her, but her exit left the distinct feeling of a person who wanted to be alone.  
  
Having nothing better to do, Ron listened to the conversation between Ginny and the gossip girls.  
  
"So, what do you have to report today?" she asked. "What have I missed while I was off, making sure we keep that Quidditch Cup again?" Lavender giggled at her joke while Parvati answered.  
  
"Not much, Ginny," she said somberly. "Hermione is holding on this privacy thing, so that's a dead lead. Some interesting rumors we've heard floating around, though. There is said to be a teacher here who is too friendly with the students." Ron's ears perked up at this. He had heard something like this in the hall the first night of the term. Could it be true?  
  
"Wow," Ginny observed. "Where'd you hear this one? It can't be first hand, or the word 'teacher' would have been a name."  
  
"Too true," Lavender continued. "We've heard accounts of perfects patrolling the halls and hearing this teacher at work. We don't yet know the identity of the teacher or student (possibly students)." The listening members of the table thought of this information form a moment before Ginny spoke again.  
  
"God, I hope it isn't Snape," she said, voicing all of their fears. A collective shiver passed through the group before they went back to normal conversation. Ron couldn't return to his food, though. So, the mystery couple from way back then had decided to continue their... relationship. Whatever. That was news. The teacher and student involved could be fired or expelled, respectively. What was worth that risk? Ron tossed a roll back onto his plate. Suddenly he wasn't hungry at all.  
  
He decided to head up to his dormitory and look over the last of Hermione's letters. He had nearly reached the end of her correspondence, but couldn't find time to read them at night any more. Upon reaching his dorm, he flopped on to his four poster bed and reached under his pillow. There it was, the little blue notebook that had entrapped his life. Opening it towards the end, he flipped around until he found his spot. A short note probably written in a taxi on the way to a concert with Jamie and her cousin, Lauri. The note was scrawled in blue Muggle ink, from one of their 'pens'.  
  
_ "Ron!  
I am going to see one of my favorite bands in the whole wide world. They are called Death Cab for Cutie and they rock. The lead singer is so awesome. The way he writes is... ah! So great! It's like poetry.. Only not. Gah! Ahem... I'm ranting. I'll shut up. Sorry, I just had to tell you this. It's so freaking awesome!  
There's not much going on besides that. Well, work stuff, of course. We're so close to our goal! It's great! That's basically life here. Pretty great. I hope it's good on your end, too.  
I think I'll die of happiness if I get to talk to Ben Gibbard tonight. Oh. He's the singer guy. Well, I'll write more later!  
Hermione XOXO"_  
  
Those were the letters he loved. The ones where she was just happy. She tended to get giddy when she was happy. And he had seen some pretty interesting things make her happy. From getting a superb mark on a paper or test to figuring out something no one else could have. Also, apparently, seeing some band in concert. He would wager that a lot of her happiness came from excelling at work, though. Of course, the concert made her happy, but she would have been able to enjoy it were she not doing well at work. He noticed how she included a mention of her workday, and reasoned that he was right. He flipped to the next page.  
  
_"Well, the concert was, indeed, amazing. But not as amazing as my day today. I didn't have to work today, so our band decided to practice. We had a show tonight, so we want to make sure everything is smooth. It was our first show. First ever. Well, not really. They were a band before I joined, and they played shows, but they sound has changed a bit and now I'm the lead singer so this is sort of like our first show. It's MY first show, at any rate.  
"Practice went well. We started at 10 and wrapped up at 2. After that Lauri and I went shopping for show clothes. It is always fun to go shopping with Lauri. We went down to the Village to a few really cool shops we knew. Two hours and 300 dollars (I don't even want to tell you how much money that is. Lauri has a problem) later, I was ready to go on.  
"Except that I was scared out of my mind. I mean, do you remember in fifth year when we had the first DA type meeting and I had to talk in front of everyone and my voice got all squeaky? Well, that was just speaking in front of 25 people. This gig would involve me singing rather difficult music while playing the guitar to an audience of about 100 or 150. I felt like I was gong to die! It took the whole band, Lauri and my uncle to calm me down enough to go on stage.  
"But as soon as I got out there I was okay. I sang and played and rocked out and guess what? They loved me! Everyone was cheering and screaming and it was for me! Now I know how you feel playing Quidditch, everyone cheering for you. Well, last year, at least. And the end of fifth year. Oh well, that's not important. I can't believe how good that felt! And, after the show people were buying our CDs (that's a thing with recorded music on it). There was one girl who came up to me and said that she love one song in particular. The song that I wrote basically all of the parts by myself. And she thought my lyrics were moving. Moving! Ben Gibbard's lyrics are moving! Radiohead writes moving lyrics! And she said she thought I was moving. That is the greatest thing anyone has every said to me.  
"I am tired beyond belief! We stayed out until 2 in the morning partying. I'm going to regret that one, I can tell! Oh well. I had fun.  
"I should sing my moving song for you some day. Ask me to. When you read this. Ask me to sing my moving song. It's called 'Photobooth' and it is moving.  
"I'm sleeping now. Goodnight, Ronald! Sweet dreams, too.  
Hermione XOXO"  
_  
The idea wasn't half bad. Maybe he could ask to hear that song. Not that he wanted to invade her privacy, but now he was curious about the 'moving song'. Movement outside of the room brought him out of his thoughts. He stowed the book again and stood. Harry walked in, a concerned look written over his face.  
  
"I thought you went after Hermione" he said. Ron shook his head. "You should. I'm worried. You know how those two can be, and she really seemed to be upset at practice." Ron nodded.  
  
"I think I managed to calm her down a bit, but still, I know what you mean," he agreed. "I'll look for her."  
  
Which is how he found himself walking the corridors alone. Not that he minded it. It was nice to be able to just walk around and think. He found his thoughts slipping to the way she looked when she was happy. The little dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, the way she would subtly toss her hair when she was thinking about something good. Her laugh. The same laugh that had developed the recent ability to turn his stomach inside out. He smiled at his thoughts, but was so lost in them that he wasn't looking where he was going. And bumped into the last person he wanted to see in such a happy moment.  
  
"Watch yourself, Weasley!" Malfoy shouted at him. Ron raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain the happy.  
  
"Whatever," he responded, trying to push past, but only managing to make him angrier.  
  
"What?" Malfoy shouted again, taking the push as an attack. "Do you want to fight?" Ron looked him in the eyes.  
  
"No," he said calmly. "And you seem awfully belligerent today. You should think about that. Now I'm going this way." And with that, Ron left a steaming Malfoy to glare holes in his back. A few moments later, Ron heard him huff and walk off in another direction.  
  
Ron sighed. This day just kept getting more interesting. He now was tired of walking and wanted just to talk to Hermione. He had brought the Marauder's map for such an occasion and he opened it, looking for his friend's name. He saw a few dots (Minerva McGonagall, Colin Creevey, James Ross) out on the main hall, but her name was no where to be seen. He looked on the second floor, and there she was, walking towards the Gryffindor tower. He sighed, probably having just missed her, then turned around.  
  
When he got there she was sitting alone in the common room, strumming idly at her guitar. He smiled at her.  
  
"You know, if they found you here with that, they'd force you to sing for sure," he said, leaning against a wall. She looked up at him, smiling slightly.  
  
"I don't know if I care anymore," she said softly. He frowned, taking a seat next to her. The notes and chords she played seemed somewhat structured. He could follow a melody, softly washing through the otherwise quiet room. It seemed wrong to interrupt such a sweet sound, but he needed to talk to her.  
  
"Is that a song?" he asked softly. She nodded in response. They didn't speak for a few more moments before Ron pulled out the little blue notebook he had put in his pocket. "You mentioned a song in here," he mumbled, opening to the page. "Photobooth. Said I should ask to hear it." Her faraway look seemed to deepen at those words. "So, should I still ask to hear it?" she didn't respond, but the music she was playing seemed to change. After a moment, she truly answered his question, beginning to sing.  
  
_ "I remember when the days were long  
  
And the nights when the living room was on the lawn:  
  
Constant quarrelling, the childish fits,  
  
And our clothes in a pile on the ottoman;  
  
All the slander and doublespeak  
  
Were only foolish attempts to show you did not mean  
  
Anything but the blatant proof  
  
Was your lips touching mine in a photobooth._

_  
  
And as the summer's ending,  
  
The cold air will rush your hard heart away  
  
You were so condescending:  
  
And this is all that's left.  
  
Scraping paper to document  
  
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on._

__

Cup your mouth to compress the sound,  
  
Skinny-dipping with the kids from a nearby town,  
  
Everything that I said was true  
  
As the flashes blinded us in the photobooth.  
  
I lost track and then those words were said,  
  
You took the wheel and you steered us into your bed.  
  
Soon we woke and I walked alone  
  
And it was pretty clear that it was hardly love.

And as the summer's ending,  
  
The cold air will rush your hard heart away  
  
You were so condescending:  
  
And this is all that's left.  
  
Scraping paper to document  
  
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on..."  
  
She slowly faded the song and Ron sat in awe. With her expectant eyes looking at him for some conformation, all he could manage was to breath. Her song had created a perfect picture in his mind. Her words were the paint, her melody was the brush, and the soft guitar the canvas. The most incredible thing about it, though, was the passion she had sung with. Like she truly felt the words and lived through the inspiration every time she sang. He shook his head at her with a small smile. All he could think to say to her waiting eyes was "Wow."  
  
She smiled brightly at him, then tried to hide how pleased his approval made her. "Yes, well, it sounds much different with the whole band. I mean, really it's hardly the same song. You don't really get the right effect on an acoustic. Sounds far too coffee shop guitar emo crap," she rambled. Ron raised an eyebrow at her, at which she stopped, smiling again. "Really, though, what do you have to say besides 'wow'?" she asked, mocking his shocked look at which they both laughed.  
  
"Well, it was amazing," he said, making her blush. "Really. One of the best things I've ever heard." She rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"Don't try to flatter me," she said, "Lies do not become us, Ronald." He laughed at her antics for a moment, then set a serious smile on his face. He caught her chin in his hands and pulled her eyes into his.  
  
"Honestly, Hermione," he said softly and now it was her turn to have trouble breathing. "When have I ever lied to you?" he released her and a moment passed before something caught Ron's eye. Some movement on the bit of parchment he had laid on the table. Picking it up, he saw a dot labeled "Parvati Patil" heading towards Gryffindor tower. "Oh, we should be going if we don't want to have to deal with her crap," he said, showing Hermione the paper. She nodded and picked up the guitar, hurrying to replace it in her dormitory. Not a moment later, it seemed, she had returned and they walked out the portrait hole and down they hall.  
  
As they turned the corner, they were spotted by a pretty Indian girl, who turned around to raised an alarm.  
  
-----  
  
For the fifth time in fifteen minuets, they had to duck into a corner to avoid one of the gossip crew. They had multiplied, it seemed, and every one of them was looking for Hermione. Upon thinking about it, she angerly pushed a wall.  
  
"Really! There are at least ten people running about looking for me!" she hissed. "Don't they have anything better to do?!" Ron chuckled for a moment, but was silenced by an angry glare. "Oh, so you think this is funny?"  
  
"Not at all," Ron said, raising his hands. "I just think you're funny when you're mad like this." She tried to be angry, but he smiled innocently and all she could do was throw a pitiful glare. Ron peeked his head out around the corner, checking for hiding gossip kids. "I think the cost is clear," he relayed and they headed out.  
  
Not three seconds later, a voice called out, "Hermione!" they turned around to see a third year girl standing in the middle of the hallway. She walked up to them and looked up at the seventh year she had addressed. "Parvati and Lavender would really like to see you, can you come with me?" she said in a sweet voice. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.  
  
"Um, actually, we're kind of in a hurry," Ron said, backing away. "Can she talk to them later?" The girl grabbed Hermione's hand.  
  
"Oh, no, it's quite urgent!" she said with a smile. Hermione pulled her hand away.  
  
"Well, it'll have to wait, we're busy!" she said quickly. Without giving the girl a chance to respond, she grabbed Ron's hand and ran in the other direction.  
  
Hermione had found the little ally near the front hall in her first year and had used it then to escape the whispers she heard from her classmates. She hadn't been back there since but for a short time in third year when she went on a mad hunt for Scabbers the rat in order to make peace with Ron. Obviously, she had not found use in the spot at that time, but it seemed quite appropriate now.  
  
They had been there for about ten minutes, just sitting in silence against opposite walls. A few times, girls had walked past, but had been in too much of a hurry to check in a little noticed hallway. After a while, Hermione started to chuckle. Catching Ron's eye, he grinned with her. Soon, though, her laughter went beyond just chuckling; becoming an all out guffaw. At this, Ron raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Um, Hermione?" he asked tentatively. "You're kind of scaring me..." She attempted to stifle her laughter, ending up just pursing her lips together and shaking a lot. She was such a sight that Ron joined in the laughter. A few minutes later, their giggles had died enough for Hermione to explain thier source.  
  
"I just keep thinking about how stupid this all is!" she said through chuckles and snorts. "I mean, it's just a few songs! And they're starting to get weird. Do you remember that last girl? She was scary!" Remembrance of this brought on a fresh bout of giddiness to the pair; but noises down the hall caused Ron to shush his friend.  
  
"I'm sure I heard something down this way!" a voice said. Ron and Hermione pressed themselves against the walls, trying to be invisible. But, apparently, she found this movement funny as well, and now had more laughter to suppress. It seemed as though the girls were going to leave without incident, until Hermione let out a high pitched squeak. Her eyes grew wide and she looked around. A moment passed. Nothing happened. After a few more moments, they heard footsteps walking in the other direction. Letting out the breath they had been holding, their eyes met and they started laughing again. Hermione sighed, shaking her head.  
  
"Honestly, I really don't want to deal with this any more toda-"  
  
"Hermione!" a voice shouted down the hall. She jerked her head towards the noise, sighing.  
  
"Really, this is getting ridiculous!" she nearly shouted, leaning her head back against the wall with a frustrated grunt. Ron looked around nervously, hoping that she hadn't been heard. As funny as it had been, she was right. That last girl they had met was really quite scary. He didn't want to have to deal with anything like that anymore, either.  
  
"Keep it down, do you want them to come back?" he asked in a harsh whisper. She laughed loosely, tossing her head back.  
  
"That won't matter if not here to greet them!" she explained, standing and stretching. "Let's go."  
  
"Go where?" he asked, standing as well. She was already walking towards the giant front doors of the castle. When she got to the end of their little alleyway, she peeked around the corners, checking for more scary gossip kids.  
  
"Dunno yet," she said, smiling back at him. She grabbed his wrist suddenly, pulling him out of the hallway and into the Front Hall. It was a mad dash to the doors, then they were greeted by the blinding sunlight.  
  
The day was bright as they raced across the grounds. There were a few students scattered about, but luckily the duo wasn't noticed. Not that they would have cared just then. They were wrapped up in their fun; laughing as they sought out a place they wouldn't be bothered. Suddenly, Hermione stopped, looking down a hill.  
  
"You see that patch of trees down there?" she asked. Ron nodded. "Have you ever seen it before?" he hadn't. In fact, he didn't know anyone who had ever mentioned that particular patch of trees before. As he realized her message, they both smiled.  
  
Neither of them realized how loose the gravel was on the way down. But soon they couldn't ignore it, slipping down and laughing at the spectacle. Then something happened.  
  
To him time whirred in slow motion. She turned with a smile that slowly morphed into a look of shock. There was no sound, nothing was there except for her as she fell in a graceful arc. He saw this before he realized she had slipped and acted before he felt himself move. He didn't know what he was doing, he saw himself dive after her like a spectator; not really there. And so they fell together.  
  
He came to himself when they reached the bottom of the hill. He had taken the brunt of the fall and sustained a few minor cuts and an aching leg. She lay on top of him, coughing through dust, but he could see that she was safe.  
  
None of that mattered, though, as their eyes locked and she smiled. All that he could think of was the distance between them; moving closer with every passing moment. She gingerly brushed a bit of grass out of his hair then moved to touch a cut on his face.  
  
"Are you alright?" she asked in a voice that didn't seem her own; low and airy. He nodded.  
  
"I'll be fine," he mumbled. "Just a few scratches. What about you?"  
  
"I'm great," she murmured back with a smile, her eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. "Thank you for that." Her voice was quieter now as the distance between them was almost closed. "Really. Thank you." He wasn't sure if she had said that or just thought it loudly, and he didn't have time to dwell on that as their lips met.  
  
He kissed her, he kissed her, he kissed her and the world disappeared.  
  
--------------- 

Hoorah! Chapter four! Review, Kids! Yeah. Those gissip kids got a bit out of hand. Seriously. The last one reminded me of Children of the Corn. Did not mean for that to happen. Anyhoo, thanks to reviewers. In particular (if you've review a lot or left a particuarly long review...)

Commodor Norrington: Thanks! I plan to!

gwasshoppa: Thanks a bunddle! I've really been trying to keep them in character, and it's hard right now for Harry since he's not a big part of this part of the story. Hopefully I'll be able to get him down when he's a bigger character (and he will be, folks. Not the main one, but he has a part to play). And as for the French, I was actually hoping for people who only knew a little, if any, French to read it. Adds to the mystery and whatnot. Though do not fret, that and all other "little blue notebook" mysteries will be explained in their due time.

momo: All in good time, kiddo! I have an idea for you, yet.

NoName: Great name. Also, that's an interesting theory. We'll see how it plays out. Yes I knwo how that's going to be. No, I'm not going to tell you. You just have to read. But you've picked up on a bit of it.


	5. Nothing Hurts Like Nothing

Disclaimer: It isn't mine. The only thing about Harry Potter that I even have a chance of owning is a cool shirt from Hot Topic. Oh yeah. I want that.

Warning: Language in this chapter. Overuse of the words bloody and hell. maybe more. I can't remember.

Author's notes: Well, it's done. Finally. Crap, this took longer than it should have. Well, you can thank one of my awful teachers for giving me two days of in school suspension for it being out now. I've had a lot of time. Yay. Also, tab isn't working. It makes me cry and weep uncontrollably every day of my life. But I'll get over it. I guess you'll just have to deal with non-indented paragraphs, just this once. Yeah. Also, my page dashy page breaks seem to not be working. It also makes me cry. But, luckily, the only time a page break is needed it goes into italics, so you should be okay. Tell me if it's too hard to understand, I'll try and fix it. Now, read, enjoy and review.

Oh, also, sorry for shattering all your hopes and dreams with this chapter. What can I say. It had to be done! Ron gets all angsty, though, and I'm crap at writing angst, so I apologize now. Okay, author's notes are getting a bit too long. I'm done!

Sincerely,

Me.

Chapter five: Nothing hurts like nothing.

In their fourth year, Hermione kissed Ron on the cheek on their way to the lake in the second task. That very moment, she discovered that kisses tended to render him helpless. She used this to her advantage in fifth year; distracting him long enough to get passed awful Slytherin. It only stood to reason, then that a full on kiss could send him into a deaf, dumb and blind stupor. When their lips parted an eternity after they had met, Ron could barely think, let alone hear anything she was saying to him. He noticed that she was standing and so stood too, then followed dumbly as she headed up the hill back to the castle. When they reached the top, he regained enough sense to speak.

"What just happened?" he asked with a goofy grin still plastered to his face. Hermione sent him a funny look.

"We kissed, dummy," she said, grinning to match him. They smiled at each other for another moment, a mutual blush rising in their cheeks.

"That was...." Ron started, searching for the right words. "Indescribable." She let out a cherubic laugh that didn't make his stomach churn so much as sent a warm sensation through his chest.

"Yes, that it was," she agreed. She looked at him, almost impressed. "I'm surprised, actually. You're quite good at that. I simply can't believe it was your first kiss!" They laughed together at a private joke. "Perhaps we should do it again sometime," she said coyly. He raised an eyebrow coolly, but inside he was a mess. Was she asking if he wanted to peruse a relationship? Was this just an offer for more kissing? Moreover, why did he care? She was just Hermione, for goodness sake! She had noticed his silence and her coy look dropped.

"Did I step over the line there?" she asked in a concerned tone. "I was only kidding, you know. I mean, that was nice, but well, you know...." There was something in her tone that he didn't like. He stopped and looked at her.

"Know what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Why did this matter so much?!

"Well, it was just a kiss," she explained. "Just a kiss between friends. It happens all the time, you know. And, while it was great, we both know that it was utterly meaningless."

His heart dropped out of his chest, through the bottom of his stomach and crashed into a million pieces on the ground. He suddenly felt dizzy and scared, but he just smiled fakely and agreed with some noise that might have been words. Time seemed to flash by and he watched as some gangly red headed boy walked to a castle with a beautiful woman then she walked away and he was left alone. He stood in the front hall for at least ten minutes before he realized where he was. What had she last said to him? _"Oh, Ron, your leg is bleeding! You should go have Madam Pomfrey look at it. I've got to go, but I'll see you later." _And she was gone.

He thought for a moment that going to fix his leg sounded like a good idea and so started on his way. But his thoughts whirred him away until he had no control over where he was going. All he could think of was her. And his real first kiss.

It wasn't some big long romantic ordeal. Hell, it was barely more then a peck, but it had meant the world to him. And he thought it had to her too. Maybe he knew less than he thought. It had been a long time before then, back when they were almost strangers. Back before the harsh reality of war and death held any sway over their young minds. A time he would always remember as the first year.

She lingered a moment in the purple flames, almost afraid of what she would see when she emerged. Half a moment later, the cold through her body was gone, the tickling flames had left and she was in a dark chess room. Immediately she saw him; lying helter skelter in a graveyard of ebony and ivory, his face eerily illuminated. He looked like death warmed over, or life cooled down, and she didn't want to think about what he actually was. Slowly, carefully, she approached. His face looked cold; his bright freckles standing out against a gray pallet. She reached out a shaking hand to touch him, fearing the moment his skin would brush hers and she could tell. At long last, there was contact. He was warm. She let out the breath she had been holding and smiled. But a voice in her head ruined it all for her. If it hasn't been long, he might still be warm. _Her eyebrows pinched together in a hurt frown and she moved to take a pulse. Her fingers lingered over his neck, but she found that they would go no further. She was too afraid. With her lips shaking ceaselessly, she let out a croak that might have been his name. She shook his shoulders, hoping to wake him._

"Ron?" she whispered, shaking a little harder. "Ron, please wake up." There was no response. She began to really fear the worst and her stomach knotted together. "Ron, please, you can't leave me!" she whispered harshly. A tear rolled unnoticed down her cheek as she leaned forward. "Ron!" she said into his ear. "You can't, you just can't. You can't leave me when I've only just found you!" Her face was right above his now and she could see the gray growing darker with death. Before she knew what was happening, her lips were on his, hopping to kiss the life back into him. And something amazing happened then.

He kissed her back.

She pulled away sharply, finding herself looking into his eyes. Sitting up quickly, she tried to wipe away her tears. He looked at her with the same shock she felt for a moment, then smiled.

"You kissed me," he observed. She looked away.

"No I didn't," she mumbled. He got up and walked over to where she now sat, kneeling in front of her. He touched his cheek where her tears had left a puddle, then showed the dampness to her.

"Then what's this?" he asked. Her lip began to shake again and suddenly she threw her arms around him.

"Oh, God! I thought you were dead!" she cried into his chest. He patted her back awkwardly, suddenly remembering that he was gawky and twelve. And even more suddenly he remembered where they were.

"Where's Harry?" he asked. She looked up for a moment hurt and confused, then a realization passed through her eyes and she leapt up.

"Hurry! We have to go! No time to explain!"

As she ran out of the room, they both knew that they would never talk about this again.

__

Ron came back to his senses far away from where he had expected to be. In front of him was a painting of fruit. What did that mean? Oh, yes. The kitchens. Why had he come to the kitchens? He couldn't think of a good reason to be here, and so turned away.

Then again, a nice butterbeer sounded really good at the moment.

And being fawned over by those house elves was always a way to make someone feel important.

They were probably good listeners, when it came right down to it.

With his mind changed, he tickled the pear and entered the large kitchen. Immediately, a few house elves ran up to him, asking what he wanted. He told them about his newly discovered desire for butterbeer and they scampered. Now almost alone, Ron walked over to the tables corresponding to the Great Hall tables. There was Gryffindor, where he sat everyday with his friends. So much had been revealed at this table. And yet, so much had been misunderstood. Ron sighed and got off thinking again.

First year hadn't been the only time they kissed before that day. It had happened again in second year. Well, it had for him. He wasn't sure if she remembered it. She wasn't really in any state to. He hoped she did, though. He fancied it his response to her first year kiss.

A bright light filtered through the window as Ron opened his eyes. Where was he? This wasn't his bed in Gryffindor tower. This wasn't his bed at home. This was... Oh. This was a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. They had made it out of the Chamber of Secrets. He looked around the room, finding all the people he expected. There was Ginny in a bed by the window, looking a lot better than the last time he had seen her. There was Harry, sleeping restlessly. Poor guy had been through a lot in the past two years. He should at least be able to sleep well. Once again, Ron didn't envy the life his friend led. Looking further, he saw Professor Lockhart staring up at the ceiling with a dumb smile over his face. The damage would most likely be permanent. Ron almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

A white curtain caught his eye. Beyond it would be the petrified people, right? And Hermione. Ron got to his feet and walked slowly to the veil. A noise in the corner of the room caught him by surprise and he spun around.

There was Madam Pomfrey, sending him a warm smile. "I've given them the antidote today. Just a while ago." Ron's face lit up.

"Are they awake now?" he asked, trying to hide his excitement. She shook her head and his smile dropped.

"It'll take a week or so for them to be fully awoken. But as for now, they'll be slipping in and out of consciousness for a while," she explained. Ron looked back at the curtain, wondering whether she was conscious right now. "Of course, they wouldn't be able to talk or move for now, but they'll know what's going on around them," she continued. Ron nodded, not really listening right then. He was brought back to reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I'm feeling generous today and you've been through a lot so go on in. Go see her." Ron smiled and walked through the curtain.

She was exactly as he had left her, but of course that was to be expected. He remembered when her first heard what had happened to her. He couldn't breath, his stomach felt heavy and his vision had swam in front of his eyes. that was the closest he had ever come to passing out. He smiled and walked over to the bed.

He wished she looked peaceful or like she was sleeping, but she didn't. It would have been easier to think that she was dreaming good things then, but the way she looked that was impossible. She was just nowhere. Her eyes were still open in a look of shock and her hand was clenched, thinking that it still contained an important note. Her skin was slate pale and cold; she almost looked like a wax statue. He lifted a hand to her face without thinking, brushing some hair behind her ear. With all of this, somehow, she still managed to look beautiful.

Ron drew his hand back quickly. He had never thought of his friend as beautiful before. Where had that come from? Not his head, certainly. She was just Hermione.

Of course, he couldn't deny how he had felt when her lips had brushed his the year before. Warm and safe and suddenly forgetful of everything that was wrong. His hand touched her cheek again.

It would be a payback. He owed her, after all. She had given him a kiss and he had not yet returned it. Now that was just poor manors.

Plus, she probably wouldn't remember it. She was unconscious. So, what did he have to loose?

He moved slowly, taking all the time he needed to move his face to hers. He looked into her shocked, somewhat empty eyes for a moment, pausing before he crossed the last few centimeters.

Her lips were cold against his, but not as cold as he had imagined them. And they seemed to be growing warmer with every passing second. After a moment, he pulled away.

It was then that he knew she was very much conscious. She hadn't moved, not really. Her face was still frozen in shock. But now, ever so slightly, the corners of her slightly parted lips were turned in a slight smile.

He returned her smile, happy for the approval. Having nothing more to say, Ron backed away for a moment, then turned and left through the curtain.

__

When Ron returned to his senses this time, he was faced with a set of large eyes. He started, sitting upright with a jolt.

"Sir asked for a butterbeer. Malky didn't want to bother sir. Sir's butterbeer," the house elf said, handing Ron a mug. He nodded back.

"Yes. Thank you," he responded. The house elf lingered for a moment, looking at Ron tentatively. Ron noticed this and looked back. "Yeah, what is it?"

" Sir looked like he was thinking. Thinking about something painful. If sir doesn't mind Malky's asking, what was sir thinking?" he asked. Ron smiled.

"Ah. Yeah, that," Ron sipped his butterbeer with a sigh. "Well, I don't mind. I'd actually like to talk.

"I was thinking about a girl. My best friend. And… maybe more. I don't really know. I had never really thought about it until she said we weren't. I don't know if I want to be more, I've never even thought of her that way, but suddenly it's out of the question and I find myself really bothered. I don't understand this at all.

"And we've even kissed. A lot. I was thinking about that, the kissing. I was just getting to our third kiss. In third year." He paused, sipping his butterbeer and letting the warmth flow through him. "It was the first time we were both conscious."

_Ron looked at his injured leg with distain. It really hurt. A lot. He really wished Sirius hadn't been so violent. Really. It was unnecessary, and he now had the feeling he would be developing an irrational fear of dogs. Especially big dogs. Ron shuddered and the girl sitting on his bed turned to look at him. She gave an odd look, he tried to look innocent, she rolled her eyes and turned away. So it had been for a while. Neither had said a word since Madam Pomfrey left. He had had enough of it._

"So… tonight.." he started. She looked back at him.

"What about it?" she asked tiredly.

"It's been interesting, hasn't it?" he said, realizing how stupid he sounded. She laughed slightly.

"Yeah, interesting. That's one way of putting it," she agreed. He looked off, trying to think of something to say. Finally, he thought of the perfect thing.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. She looked up at him.

"What for?" she asked, bewildered.

"You know," he said, "the whole Crookshanks ate Scabbers thing. I was wrong. I owe you a big apology." She stared at him, shocked, for a moment. Then her face broke into a bright smile.

"Wow. Thank you, Ron," she said, laughing slightly. "And I'm sorry, too, for being a prat to you. And honestly, I wish you had been right. This whole Pettigrew business." That said, they sat in silence for a moment.

"That's all really strange, isn't it?" Ron said quietly. Hermione nodded. "All this time, the horrible Sirius Black was innocent and my rat was a Death Eater."

_"What… what do you think'll happen to him?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking a little. Ron looked up at her._

"Who?" he asked back. She turned her sad eyes to him.

"Sirius," she stated. They were silent for a moment, both knowing what would happen to Sirius Black. Ron spoke after a moment.

"They'll kiss him," he said, the simple sentence speaking volumes. She nodded at him, looking down at the bed.

"Poor Sirius," she whispered. Ron nodded back, not knowing what else to say. A moment later she sniffled. "Poor Harry!" Ron looked up at her.

Her eyes were full of tears, though she wouldn't let herself cry. She just looked so helpless to him. It tore at his heart to see his friend like that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body. She tensed at the contact at first, showing what Ron was feeling, but after a moment she relaxed into him. He rocked her back and forth slowly, letting his comfort wash over her, softly reassuring that everything would be fine. He heard her whimper, felt her quake against his body. She could no longer deny her tears as he felt them wet his dirty shirt. This was just too much for him to take. He reached down and cupped her chin, bringing her eyes into his.

"Everything is going to be fine, Hermione," he whispered to her. She shook her head in disbelief.

"How? How do you know that?" she asked and he smiled.

"I don't," he admitted. "But I have a good feeling." He smiled genuinely at her and she smiled back. Neither of them could have predicted or avoided what happened next.

Maybe it was the stress of that day and all that had happened. First Buckbeak, then Scabbars the Sirius and that whole mess. Maybe it was because she had just cried into his chest and he hadn't minded in the least. Maybe it was the proximity of their faces. Whatever the reason, they both seems the get the same notion at the same moment. They leaned into each other, lips crashing in the middle. They barely touched for five seconds before the two parted again. They just looked at each other with new eyes, not a word was spoken. In the screaming silence, Ron pushed his hand into the mess of hair and pulled her face to his again, this time kissing with a bit more confidence. She returned the affection, letting her body melt against him, her hands holding on to his back for dear life or sanity. The sweet attention was short lived though, as a stirring in the next bed jolted their lips apart. Hermione looked over at the noise and smiled. "Harry's waking up," she observed, rushing to his bedside. Ron tried his hardest not to feel rejected or pushed aside, and he was in no state of mind to follow her. Then, she looked over her shoulder. She looked at him with honest eyes and sent him a small smile. A small, perfect, wonderful smile. With the smile's magic added to the kiss, Ron's world faded from him.

When he came to his senses again, the moment had passed and he knew that this, too, would fade into memory without so much as a second word.

Ron realized at the end of his story that his audience had grown. At least ten house elves were sitting in front of him, watching with their big eyes even wider than normal.

"So, that's about it for third year," Ron mumbled, not sure how he felt about "performing" in front of such a crowd.

"Sir, that was so beautiful!" a girl elf said, her brown eyes rimmed with tears.

"Yes, well," he began, but was cut off by another elf.

"What happened next?" he asked. Ron gave him a look.

"Nothing, for a while," he admitted. "Not 'til fourth year."

"What happened in fourth year?" an elf squeaked.

"The tri-Wizarding Tournament," Ron explained. The elves 'ohh'ed at him. "Hermione and I were both victims in the second task. Me for Harry and her for Krum." Ron tried not to make a face as he said the name. If the elves noticed, though, they obviously didn't care. "It seemed that those two were… more than just friends. Which upset me. A lot. We had a few rows about it, but… nothing really came of it. Nothing changed between us then, for the better or worse. Anyway, in the second task we would be put into an enchanted sleep and given to the mer-people who would keep us at the bottom of the lake. It would be the champions job to rescue us.

"On the way down, I was nervous. Very nervous. Unnecessarily nervous. Well, maybe it wasn't unnecessary, as I had been studying with him for it and I knew how much he had planned. Or rather, didn't have planned. Hermione must have picked up on my mood because she tried to comfort me. Explained about the effectiveness of the enchanted sleep and how we would be rescued if the champion couldn't save us. 'Not that Harry will have any problems' she assured me. I thought that was funny. She looked all nervous." Ron smiled at the memory, then recalled what he was doing and cleared his throat. "And, as if all this wasn't enough to ease my nerves, she kissed me. Just on the cheek. I think Krum and our row may have made things a little strange between us, at least when it came to impromptu comfort kisses. Kind of upsetting, if you think about it, but even that little kiss was enough to steal my senses. And she picked up on that for the first time. She gave me a few odd looks when I couldn't talk to her, then just grabbed my hand and steered me to the lake. And I…" Ron smiled halfway. "Silly me likes to think that she was holding my hand then.

"And that was fourth year," he completed. Expecting some comments from the peanut gallery, he paused in the story. All they did was stare at him with waiting eyes. Ron sighed, knowing that he'd have to go on. "She kissed me again in fifth year. Just on the cheek again. Only, I'm not sure it counts, since it was just a trick. It was my first Quidditch match ever and I was worried sick. Literally, I felt like I was going to vomit. And one top of that, Slytherin was being awful. I had to walk by them in the Great Hall after breakfast and if I had seen what they were doing I would probably not have been able to fly. And she knew that. Of course she new that. She knows everything, always. And she also knew the prefect way to distract me. She knew that if she kissed me, I would be too dazed to even think about Slytherin, or anything for that matter, until I was in the safety of the Front hall. It was pretty genius of her, if you think about it. Anyone else who saw it would just think she was wishing me luck.

"Unfortunately, I was one of those people. I thought the stupid little cheek kiss was something more. I thought that since all the other times we had kissed it had been because of danger, that this little kiss with no impending doom meant that maybe there was something I was missing. Stupid of me, right? I guess I was able to push those thoughts away for a while, though. Until the summer. You see, this kiss was unlike the others in another way, too. We talked about it later. I actually asked her what it had been about. That's how I know what she was trying to do. But, you know, for a few months, I really thought…. I don't know what I thought."

Some of his audience members had tears in their eyes now. The girl elf who had spoken before now squeaked "That's just awful!" and blew her nose on her tea cozy. Another elf quickly shouted out "What happened next? In your sixth year? Anything?" Ron's face darkened then.

"Yes, a lot happened then. Horrible things," he said, his voice quiet as he recalled the terrors of the last year. "See, it had been revealed at the end of fifth year that You-Know-Who was back, so I suppose his Death Eaters no longer had any qualms about spreading terror. People were tortured. People were killed. Good people. Innocent witches and wizards. Muggles, even, who had no idea what was happening to them. . Hogwarts seemed to be the only place in the world that was safe.

"But it was safe; we were safe and that seemed to be the only thin g that mattered. And as long as we were there, the war seemed far away somehow. I mean, we knew it was going on, but it didn't seem like it could ever touch us. Even when it did touch our lives. All of my family is fighting, so… with so many of us…. Let's just say I highly doubt Bill's will be the last Weasley funeral I attend…. Even Hermione had trouble on the outside! It was probably just a coincidence, but early in that year, the Death Eaters fell on her old neighborhood. Just for sport. Muggle killing sport. They murdered an entire family and tortured a girl who just happened to cross their path. Apparently, we found out later, the family that was killed contained Hermione's best friend from childhood. And the girl who was put under the Cruciatus Curse was her sister. Ironically, this was the first time I ever heard that Hermione even had a sister…

"With this horrible war out there, we only felt like we were truly safe in here. Of course it wouldn't last. Towards the end of the year, You-Know-Who figured out that we had something that he _still_ desperately wanted. That bloody prophesy. But, he knew he would have to have Dumbledore cooperating with him to get it, as it was neatly stored in Dumbledore's mind. He needed to gain the upper hand, he needed to have something we wanted more than he wanted the prophesy. And why not kill two birds with one stone; get his precious information _and _revenge on those meddling kids who ruined everything the year before.

"He took us from Hogsmead. Luckily, Harry wasn't with us that day. We already had a motion that _something _would happen. It's a good thing, too. I shudder to think what would have happened if they had captured Harry that day. No, it was me, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna who faced the horrors of the Death Eaters dungeons. And that is the setting of the sixth year kiss."

The room was silent but for her tears. He couldn't remember how long she had been crying; since they were thrown into the dank room it seemed. Ages ago it would have been, then. Or maybe minutes. Who could really tell down here. Of course, when her tears began it had been an uncontrollable weeping. It had since subsided into whimpers.

He looked around the room at his friends now. They were all asleep, or at least pretending to be. Neville was leaning against a wall, snoring softly. Ron smiled at him, somehow his inherent vulnerability reminded Ron of home. Of Hogwarts. It was strangely calming. Ginny and Luna, who had become nearly best friends, were curled up together near a corner. They had long since ended their conversation, which Ron had found quite interesting. They discussed and planned the party that they would have when they were out. Of course, the plans themselves were so fanciful that they could never be pulled off, but it gave the girls hope.

She hiccupped slightly into his chest and he looked down at her. He had taken it upon himself to comfort her when she had broken down, but couldn't get a word past her sobs. So he had down the only other thing he could think; he hugged her. Which explained to some degree why she was now sitting in his lap, her face buried in his chest. He listened quietly for a few moments, trying to decide if she was calm enough yet. She hiccupped again, but the tears had all but stopped.

"Hey," he whispered to her, rubbing her back slowly. She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes he could barely see in the darkness. "You okay?" he asked. She shook her head pitifully.

"No, not really," she said, her voice still broken by tears.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked softly, still rubbing her back in what he hoped was a claming manner. She nodded into his chest, then sat quietly, searching for he right words.

"I just," she started after a moment. "I feel so… helpless." Ron nodded understandingly, but let her finish her thought. "I mean this whole year. Starting with last summer in the Order headquarters. We couldn't do anything. And we tried to fight it, thought we were doing our part but this year…. We have no part, other than to play the victim. Your family is fighting in the Order and we're just sitting around in our safe little school while people die. First Sirius, then.. Bill. And Madeline and her family, they weren't even part of this God forsaken war! And they attacked my bloody sister _and I so wanted to tare them limb for limb. I wanted to kill them with my bare hands after that but we couldn't do _anything_! Now, we're sitting here, trapped in this little room with no wands just _waiting _for them to do… what ever it is they're going to do. I feel helpless and I hate it. Plus, I'm scared," she finished. Her voice was stronger now, seemingly boldened by her words. She was feeling better, he hoped._

"You're right," he said quietly after a moment. He was searching for the words, trying to find the right thing to say. Hermione flashed him a look that said agreeing with her was a far cry from the right thing. He smiled. "There isn't much, if there's anything at all that we can do with the war right now. We can't fight in the Order. We can't do much from Hogwarts. Not like we used to. The scale's gone way too big, this is out of our reach. But, Hermione, but we don't have to sit back here and take this. We don't have to play the victim now-"

"What are we going to do?" she interrupted. "We don't have any wands or anything at all." Ron smirked at her.

"Why, Miss Granger! Are you forgetting that before you were the best witch in your class," he said silkily, "that you were the best Muggle _in your class? I'm sure you'll think of something." She glared at him._

"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. "No pressure there." But she smiled at him, obviously thankful for the compliment.

"I mean, it may be as simple as actually fighting back when they come for us," he went of. "Or as complicated as trying to figure out how to do wandless magic. Though I recommend the fighting. We just don't have to take it! And as for escaping, which I know you're thinking of; we all are, maybe we'll think of something. Maybe we won't have to." He paused, pushing some hair behind her ear and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Her tears were nearly dry. "You know that they're coming for us. It's just a matter of time." A shadow passed over her face as he said this.

"And if they're too late?" she said darkly. "If they've already killed us-"

"They're not going to kill us," Ron said quickly. She stared at him coolly.

"Don't' be so naïve."

"No really, they can't," he explained. "We're their perfect little bargaining chips. If they kill even one of us, they know that Dumbledore would be even less likely to cooperate then he is now. And he's pretty unlikely right now. They don't want to mess up any chance they may have." She mulled this over for a moment and Ron grinned at her. "Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!" he played. She smirked at him.

"I am the smart one," she flirted back. They both grinned and chuckled, knowing what would come next.

Ron put his hand to the side of her face, rubbing her cheek again. She smiled and ran a hand through his fiery hair, grinning even more as she did. This time, there was no big emotional build up. It just felt natural; right. She leaned up as he leaned down to her, into a real kiss. With eyes closed, he kissed her tear salty lips with a passion he didn't know he had in him. Unfortunately, not a moment later the door swung open.

They looked at the silhouette with fearful eyes. The other were stirring now, all attention was given to the door. A severe looking woman walked in, looking around as she did. They could see a scowl on her scarred face and could only think one thing. This was surly the end. Ron balled his hands into fists and sent a meaningful look to Hermione. They weren't just going to take it. She nodded at him slightly and they turned back to the woman. Suddenly and certainly unexpectedly, a friendly smile broke out over her severe face. The captives looked at each other in confusion before she spoke.

"Wotcher, guys!" Nymphadora Tonks said brightly. "Ready to bust out?"

They were saved.

The house elves had become so enthralled in his story that a few of the cheered when he was finished. Ron chuckled, God, house elves could sure make a person feel good! The emotional girl who had spoken before had tears in her eyes again, realizing the sad ending to the story.

"But sir and mistress didn't speak of it again, did they?" she asked. The others calmed down and turned their attention back to Ron. He shook his head.

"No, we didn't," he confirmed. His audience looked disappointed.

"What about today?" asked Malky, the first elf he had spoken to. "What happened to sir today?"

"We kissed again," Ron stated simply, "We kissed with no ulterior reasons, just because we wanted to kiss. We kissed for a good ten minutes straight! And afterwards she called it meaningless." Ron paused, shaking his head vigorously. "And I don't' know why I care! It's not like I have feelings for her! She just Hermione! My friend! But somehow…" he stopped talking altogether. What was he going to say? But somehow when she kissed him the world seemed more real? Somehow when she told him what it had meant his heart was ripped out of his chest? What did she mean to him? He didn't have a chance to ask because right then the door to the kitchens opened, then slammed closed.

"Excuse us, sir!" a house elf squeaked and the group rushed off. Ron didn't care, just laid down on the bench and took another sip of butterbeer.

"I want a drink and quick! Butterbeer, if you don't have anything stronger," an angry voice said. "Then leave me the hell alone!" Ron looked to the entrance where he saw the one face the did not want to see right then.

"Malfoy," he growled. Malfoy heard the noise and looked over, the scowl on his face becoming more pronounced.

"Bloody hell!" he nearly shouted. "Can I not get any peace today!" Weasley!"

"I was here first," Ron said quickly. Malfoy took his butterbeer from a trembling house elf and strode to the tables.

"I'm well aware," he sneered. Scowling, he looked around, took a drink, sighed and sat down.

"And he sits!" Ron observed, taking a drink. "Not that I care, but what's got your panties all up in a bunch? I know you're usually crabby, but this is ridiculous!"

"Can it, Weasley!" Malfoy snapped. For once, Ron was happy to oblige, taking in the well appreciated chance for silence. A silence that was soon broken. By Malfoy. Which was weird.

"You're wondering about me, aren't you?" he asked. Ron looked around the room, obviously confused. Malfoy didn't give a chance to respond, just kept talking. "The whole lot of you. Just wondering. You probably just sit around _wondering: _what happened to evil bad Draco _Malfoy_ to make him turn good?" Ron tried to correct him: they hadn't wondered anything about him since the train ride. "Well you know what? It doesn't matter anyway! It doesn't matter if I turn good or if my father or anybody leaves their side because they're still going to bloody _win. _We can't beat them, and even if we do they'll already have killed everybody who ever meant anything to any- hic!" he cut off abruptly and Ron looked over at him. His head was turned, but Ron could see his eyes shining with unwelcome tears. The ugly scowl still covered his features, but it was now joined by a look of hurt. Ron thought about what he had said, about everything and something dawned on him.

"Oh," he started. "That girl Luna saw you with this summer. The Ravenclaw. This has something to do with her, doesn't it?" Malfoy let out a sick hurt grin.

"Yes, _that girl," _he said in a mocking tone. "Her name was Virginia, though. Not "that girl". Not "the Ravenclaw". Her name was Virginia Kelley."

"Her name _was?" _Ron repeated. Malfoy looked at him for the first time since he had walked into the kitchens.

"Yes. _Was," _he spat. "She died a month ago." He looked away again. "Dear old dad wanted me to be the one to kill her. But I couldn't. she'd never done anything to me. None of the bloody people they ever kill or torture or hurt have ever done a bloody thing to any of them! Or at least not something worth dying over! Hell, I probably _should _have killed her myself, at least that way she wouldn't have to go through any more. But I was a bloody selfish _coward _who couldn't even save the only thing that's ever meant anything because he _loved _her too bloody much!" He stopped, sneered and drank. "It's a bloody stupid emotion, if you ask me."

Ron was shocked. Stunned. First off, Malfoy was talking to him in a slightly friendly tone. Secondly, Malfoy wasn't insulting him. And lastly, Malfoy had just confessed to loving some girl Ron could only vaguely remember Too weird.

"Wow," he said stupidly. "I never knew. Malfoy sneered at him.

"Of course you didn't bloody know, I didn't bloody tell you," he mumbled. "And you'd best not tell anyone else. They were silent for a few moments after that, some unspoken truce passing between them. "So, what brings you to the kitchens with a butterbeer?" Malfoy asked. Ron shot him a look.

"Can't I just come here cause I like it?" he asked.

"Nope," Malfoy said quickly. He seemed more cheerful now that he had gotten his feeling on Virginia off his chest. Ron sipped his butterbeer quietly for a moment.

"I kissed Hermione,: he said at last. Malfoy's face lit up.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled, obviously excited about this. "What did she do?" Ron glared at Malfoy, who was obviously hoping that she had slapped him or something.

"She kissed me back," Ron said shortly. Malfoy sent him a look.

"How can this story end with you nursing a butterbeer, looking to a crowd of house elves for comfort?" he asked. Ron tried not to notice that Malfoy knew about the house elves.

"Then she called it meaningless and walked away," he finished. "And I don't know why I care."

"I do!" Malfoy shouted. "You fancy her! It's why you're always fighting _and _why I always tease you about her. It's so obvious!" Ron didn't like that Draco bloody Malfoy was giving him advise about his feelings. Didn't like it at all.

"Sod off!" he retorted. "And don't breath a word of this to anyone or the whole school will learn all about Virginia Kelley.!"

"Likewise," Malfoy said, setting down his empty mug. "And, if you don't mind, I think I'll be off. Still need to find some peace. Don't think anyone's using the Prefect's bathroom, do you?"

"Let's hope not," Ron responded. Malfoy stood and nodded at him.

"Weasley," he said as some from of goodbye.

"Malfoy," Ron responded. "Good luck with your emotional problems!" he called as Malfoy walked away.

"Good luck with your girlfriend," he jeered back, walking out of the door.

Ron sat there for a moment, the shock of the encounter wearing off. So Malfoy was human. That was something new. And, of course, his thought trailed back to Hermione. He laid on the bench made like the one he had sat on for the last six years, remembering everything they had been through.

Time passed somehow. As he reflected on his time with her he was vaguely aware of the house elves scuttling around him. He wondered why she was being so distant now. Since the beginning of this year, she hadn't been the same to him. It was unnerving. He wondered why he cared. He pondered what Malfoy had suggested. Did he fancy her? Wouldn't he know something like that? When Harry fancied Cho, she was all he could ever think about. Of course, when had he ever stopped thinking about Hermione? Or, when Ginny fancied Harry, she always acted differently around him. Yeah. Ron could just be himself around Hermione. He didn't need to impress her or worry about what she thought. In fact, around her was one of the few places in the world that he felt truly comfortable. So, he didn't fancy her. Obviously. Ron decided this just as he decided he was tired. He stood and stretched, thanking the house elves for their hospitality and headed out.

It was dark outside. Very dark. Ron didn't even want to know what time it was. He was just thankful that he didn't have classes the next day. He reached the Fat Lady, mumbled the password and stepped inside, ready for bed. Only he had to pause when he entered the common room. Generally when it was this late, everyone would have gone to bed. Tonight, however, sitting on the windowsill was his baby sister.

"What are you still doing up?" he asked. She looked over at him, a dreamy look in her eyes and a healthy flush on her face.

"I just got back," she said.

"From where?"

'The bath," she answered with a smile.

"At," he looked at his watch," twelve thirty at night?" she shrugged at him, the dreamy smile still plastered to her face. "What is up with you?" he asked. She shrugged again.

"I had a really nice bath," she explained, smiling even more. She then looked over at him as if just realizing that he was there. "What about you? What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I was in the kitchens thinking," he said truthfully.

"Why?" she asked, looking interested.

"I kissed Hermione," he said, looking up to see her reaction. Her face lit up.

"Again?!" she squealed. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Why am I not surprised that you know that it was again?" he mumbled.

"Well? What happened? What did she say?" She sat up on her knees, neatly bursting with excitement. Ron sighed.

"Don't get so excited, Ginny. Nothing really….happened," Ron said, watching her face fall in confusion. "she doesn't have any feelings for me, so anything you thought you saw was just imaginary. As she said, it was just a kiss. Otherwise meaningless." He paused as the word stung in his chest, trying to hide the pain written on his face. Ginny didn't notice or didn't care, just stared at him.

"I didn't imagine any-"

"Obviously you did!" he snapped. She looked at him, slightly taken aback. Ron realized what a prick he had just been and sighed. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry. I don't know why this is getting to me so much." she just kept staring at him.

"I mean it," she said. "I didn't imagine anything. I didn't draw any conclusions myself." Ron's brow furrowed at her.

"What…what are you saying?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I can't tell you that," she admitted. "But I'm suddenly very worried about her. This… just doesn't sound like Hermione." Ron looked at her skeptically as she thought.

"What… why?" he stuttered, unable to think with this new cloud over his head. "I just don't know why this bothers me so much!" Ginny looked up at him.

"Have you ever considered that you may have feelings for her?" She crossed her arms knowingly at him and he looked at the floor.

"Of course I've thought of that," he murmured. "Only I just really thought of it today. After she said that there was no chance. Now I can't get it off of my mind. Yesterday she was just my friend and that was fine. Now…" he trailed off, noticing Ginny smiling at him. "What?"

"Just your friend?" she repeated. "Ron, you and Hermione have never "just been friends." There's always been something more there, just beneath the surface. You may not have noticed, in fact you probably didn't, but it's been there." She stood up at that. "Thank about it, Ron. Really think about it," she advised, then headed to her dorm.

Ron sat in in the silence that followed her. What was there to think about? Even if he did have feelings for her, she didn't return them. What was the use? Why stress over something that would never be? She didn't feel anything for him besides the comfort of a close friendship.

He sat down on the windowsill and looked out over the Hogwarts grounds. She used to, though. He was sure of it. He'd been going over everything in his mind for hours. He had been an idiot not to see it before, that was for sure. And now, there it was, staring him in the face, and the chance was _gone. _over the summer, he figured, she had just gotten tired of waiting for him. He sighed and closed his eyes, falling into a fitful sleep.

_The Great Hall looked magnificent. It was decked out, once again, for the Yule Ball. Only something was missing. The people. The room was completely, eerily empty; the dim candles sending shadows flickering across the dim dance floor._

Footsteps echoed through the entrance of the hall and two figures appeared. One, a woman, was bathed in light; looking pristine in light blue airy dress robes and pale skin. The other, a man, kept to the shadows. He led her onto the dance floor and they began waltzing to music only they could hear. When she spoke, her voice rang in the silence.

"This was nice," she said pleasantly. Her partner chuckled.

"Yeah, nice," he agreed. "Very, very, exquisitely nice._" He leaned towards her and brushed his lips against hers. She giggled and leaned into him._

"Well, um, I guess I'll see you on Monday," she giggled, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Hmm, I guess you will," he said, then leaned in to kiss her again. "Goodnight," he whispered. She smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Professor."

Ron jolted awake, just then realizing that he had been asleep. He looked down; someone had thrown a blanket over him. Someone had been in here. Turning his head, he saw a shadow retreating into the girl's dorm. Then he recalled his dream, a disturbing thought dawning on him.

It hadn't been a dream at all. At least, not the conversation. He had heard it from outside of his dream and somehow his subconscious had added it in. which could only mean one thing.

The student who was dumb enough to get involved with a teacher was a Gryffindor.

* * *

I don't like that page break. Oh well. It's done! yay! Rejoice! Another chapter, and longer than the last! I like the house elves. They're like self esteem on a platter. I want like five of them. So, thank you to my reviewers, as always, you make my life worthwhile. Special thanks now!

Momo: Why thank you! I also got what I want for you nailed down, and it's a doozy, but it doesn't come until way later so you'll have to wait a bit. Sooorrrries!

gwasshoppa: Photobooth is by the wonderful Death Cab for Cutie. I believe you can hear it at , if you search for them. And also, this story is what I want to be doing! Alas, all the other commitments I have make it hard to find time to write! So, I've gone back to my old habit of handwriting everything first in my notebook and typing it when I find the time. And I love bringing joy to people. Because joy is awesome!

CarrieWeasley: Ah, the new teacher... he doesn't make an appearance here, either... Don't worry, he's a pretty big part of the next chapter. He's a pretty big character in general, so there'll be a lot about him.

Commodore Norrington: Thanks! And, yes, I am indeed a band nerd. It's not very apparent in this story, but in the Cowboy Bebop fic I have (not published, yet, though. It probably will be soon. Hopefully) it's pretty evident. Heh.

Stephmus Prime: HEY GIRLFRIEND! So, the chapter to your liking? It better be. Or I'll have to take my revenge on you. Just joshing. Lya, kiddo!

Okay. Okay. Next chapter should be out soon. Really this time. I'm trying to put myself on a schedule or something, as I feel kinda bad about the sporadic updates. Next Saturday, then? It's a date!


	6. The Little Things

Disclaimer: I don't own things. Anything. At all. Really. The characters and all are J K Rowling's, of course, and she gets to keep them because she's so awesome. The songs aren't mine. The first one is called "We come crashing down" and is by a band called Sugarcult. They are good, look them up if you like music. The second one is "We Laugh Indoors" by, you guessed it, Death Cab for Cutie. I just can't get enough of them!!

Warnings: Laaauuunnngage! My dirty mouth is starting to bleed into the story. Heh. Didn't drop any f bombs in this chapter, but there's still time. Just language, though. That's it.

Author' Notes: Dear Lord! Alright. I wasn't good at schedule thing. So, no more deadlines. Not until November, at least. That's when life stops being crazy. Belive it or not, I've looked at my life, and I don't think I have a free Saturday until November 6th. Geez! Anyway, here's the chapter. It's here. It's not as long as the last one, but that's okay. Read. Review. You know the drill.

Sincerely,

Me

Chapter Six:

The Little Things

Much to Ron's chagrin, time marched on as usual. Monday rolled around and with it, classes. He thought he should use this as a release. As a way to distract himself from all the mental anguish he was going through. It was hard, though, with her working there beside him

Charms class was louder than usual, just due to the nature of what they were learning. The Sonorus Charm. If done correctly, it would amplify one's voice tenfold. Professor Flitwick had guarded against this by putting a sort of sound-proof field around his class. They wondered if he always did this, as they never really heard the noises of Charms outside the classroom, but knew it was noisy. They didn't have time to dwell on this, though, as the Sonorus Charm was rather difficult. The hardest thing, it seemed, was aiming their spells at the frogs and mice they were working with. Every once in a while, a spell would shoot across the room and hit some unsuspecting student. As awful as this was for the students who had parts of their lives put on show, everyone else found it rather amusing. Hermione was even laughing about it.

She seemed in a better mood, he noticed. He noticed a lot of things about her lately. Little things, things that he would not have cared about just two days before. Now he was _noticing _them. Like the little smile on her face when she successfully amplified her frog. She tossed her hair gently over her shoulder and looked around the room. Just a glance, just to see if anyone had seen her.

Shit. _He_ had seen her. He realized this just before her eyes fell on him and looked luckily away. Deciding it was high time he focused on his work, Ron turned to the mouse he was working with. The mouse glared at him, knowing what he was thinking. He glared right back. Stupid mouse. Ron sent a halfhearted attempt at the stupid mouse, missing it by a long shot. He did not miss Seamus, who was pegged in the back, causing a rather unfortunate bit of his conversation to be amplified. "-IN ME MOTHER'S ROOM," he shouted accidentally, then turned an awkward shade of red. Ron's ears blushed in sympathy. He heard a small laugh beside him and turned to face this intrusion.

God, she was looking at him and _smiling._ Why did she have to smile like that? "What?" he asked dumbly. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I saw that," she informed him cheekily. His ears turned even more red, but he grinned at her.

"No you didn't," he denied. "You saw nothing. Nothing at all. It was just a trick of the light." She narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

"It isn't good to lie to ourselves, Ron" she chided. Then a silence fell over them. Ron sent another spell at his mouse, this time hitting it. It roared for a moment before Flitwick sent a silencing charm at it. "Good job," Hermione said. Ron shrugged.

"Dumb luck," he contradicted. There was that damn silence again. He couldn't take it. When they were talking he could forget about what had happened. But here in this silence it was all he could think about. Finally, he came up with the perfect question. He knew how to break the silence and solve a lot of his problems.

"About the other day," he started, but she seemed to be expecting this and cut him off.

"Look," she said, turning to him, "maybe we should just forget about it. I'm not.. It was wrong of me to call it meaningless, because a kiss like that always means _something. _I just didn't want you to... get the wrong meaning."

Ron stared at her incredulously. "What... meaning... was I supposed to get, then?" he asked, his voice broken and unnatural. He suddenly regretted bringing it up.

"Well... I don't," she started, fidgeting with her wand. "I don't really know what it meant. I just know-"

"What it didn't mean?" Ron finished, suddenly unable to look at her. "And it certainly _didn't _mean anything a kiss usually means." He could fell her eyes, boring holes into his back.

"We should just forget it, then," she responded. Her voice sounded strange; small and strained. He tried not to think about it. He couldn't even remember what she had said.

"Don't you think it was KIND OF MISSLEADING?" he accidentally shouted. His face flushed as he realized too late how poor Neville's aim really was. Eyes wide in shock, he tried to shake off the stares of his classmates. He looked at her after a moment. She was _smiling _again.

"Perhaps we should save this conversation for another time" she said, her voice shaking with laughter. He couldn't help but grin back.

"Yeah," he agreed, getting the feeling that this conversation would never come to pass. Just then, Harry came over from where he had been helping Neville (rather unsuccessfully) and asked what was going on. He knew it, then. The chance had just flown by, and he had missed it.

-----

Heaven help him if he didn't stop noticing her. For the rest of the day it seemed that was all he could do; notice her. Little things about her. The concentrated look on her face as Flitwick asked her to try the silencing charm opposite of the Sonorus charm. The beaming look on her face when she got it after one try. The smile she gave him when he congratulated her. It wasn't her usual smile, he noticed as well. It was somehow different. Special. He found himself wondering if that smile was just for him. Shaking the thought off, he followed the students out of the classroom.

Next, he noticed her in the hall. He wondered how he had never before seen this; she walked with the minutest sway. It caused her hair to move hypnotically back and forth. He noticed her hair for the first time since Diagon Alley. It was no longer straight but now had a gentle, controlled curl to it. He wondered how she made it do that, some spell or potion? He might ask her... no, he wouldn't. All he could do for now was stare. He found it enchanting and couldn't tear his eyes away.

Then there was the queue to Transfiguration. Ron noticed the way she tapped her foot. It wasn't an impatient toe tap but rather a bored fidgeting. She bent down to look into her book bag and her hair spilled over her eyes. She pushed it boredly behind her ear. And he noticed this all; watching her with some kind of awe. He had never before realized the hypnotic grace she moved with.

He kicked himself mentally, remembering their earlier conversation. He needed to stop this insane noticing. It would only lead him into unwelcome heartache. He pushed the thoughts down, avoiding her all through Transfiguration. Through the course of the class he was almost able to forget about her. By the end he was able to muster up some cheer. Then, there she was. At once he noticed something, of course. This time it was the way her head tilted to the side when she smiled. Finally, Ron gave in and noticed whatever he would.

Lunch was uneventful. Parvati and Lavender pouted at them. Seamus explained his outburst in charms (which wasn't as dirty as it had sounded). Harry entertained some second years, which he had taken to doing. In this final year of school, he really seemed to have loosened up, accepting his fame and gaining even more. Hermione and Ron were engaged in a friendly conversation. He continued to notice her little nuances. The more he noticed, the less problem he had with noticing anything at all.

Finally, it was time for the last class of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts. As soon as she walked into the class, Ron noticed a new smile on her face. Coy and playful directed at... wait. What?

Ron paused in mid step, rewinding his mental tape and replaying the scene. She walked by the desk of Professor Ross and sent _him_ the smile. "Afternoon, _Professor," _she had said. He smiled back in the same fashion. "Good afternoon, Miss Granger!" he said cheerfully. "I hope you had a good weekend." She smiled secretly. "You bet1!" she responded. You bet? When had she ever said that? Ron took his seat next to her, sending a skeptical look her way. She turned to him with a friendly smile, causing him to frown at her.

"What was that about?" he asked, sounding more angry then he had intended. She gave him a look of confused innocence.

"What was what?" she responded. He never got a chance to explain exactly _what _he had witnessed, though. Harry chose that moment to walk up to them. After his disappearance midway through lunch, they weren't at all surprised to see his face shadowed and brooding. He sat by the window, looking out over the chill grounds. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, knowing that they'd be in for a rough night. She put her hand on his shoulder gently. "Harry?" she asked. He raised his eyebrows for a moment, just to show that he had heard.

"Talk about it later?" Ron asked in hushed tones. Harry nodded. A commanding voice from the front of the classroom caused Ron to take his seat as class began.

Today's class was a lecture but it hardly felt like it. Professor Ross had a way of delivering the information they would need in an interesting way. This was the way this class was; lecture on Monday, practice when they came back on Wednesday, and discussion on Thursday. It was a very interesting structure and they covered quite a lot of material. Mondays always started like this, learning about whatever spell or dark creature they would be covering that week and the defenses against it or its uses. Wednesday they would apply what they had learned: that day was always fun and interesting. And loud, just like Charms or Transfiguration. Thursday was the favorite day of a few people, namely Harry and Hermione because they got to give their ideas on what other ways whatever they were studying could be defended against or used. Then, they would try out the theories in the second half of the class. Needless to say, Professor Ross was well liked at the school.

This particular class was over a shield spell that most students had learned in DA. Some took notes over the things they never knew but most sat with rapt attention. Halfway through the class, Ron glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye. The sun in the window was filtering in from behind her, haloing her in a half silhouette. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her seraphic elegance. She turned to him, probably having heard this, and sent him a smile. "What?" she mouthed to him. He shook his head. "Nothing," he mouthed back. She rolled her eyes and he turned back to his notes, the tips of his ears glowing red at being caught staring. He attempted to ignore this, paraphrasing the funny story about the origin of this spell. It seemed all spells had a funny origin. This one seemed to involve a mob of angry villagers, some rotten tomatoes and a very creative wizard. Ron was just writing the part about the threats of fire and brimstone when a piece of parchment was dropped onto his desk. He looked up at Hermione, knowing she was the one who had put it there. She was just staring at the front of the class with a small smile writ across her face. Ron picked up the paper and unfolded it.

_"You've been staring at me all day."_

So she'd noticed, eh? Hopefully she didn't care. Then, why did she feel the need to inform him of this? He looked at the parchment for a moment, deciding on the best course of action. He scribbled a response _"I know_" and tossed it back onto her desk. He waited another moment, hearing her open it and scribble something back. He tried to write a few words on his notes, but then the parchment was back on his desk.

_"I figured. Why?"_

She was persistent, wasn't she? He sighed, carefully wrote the words "_It doesn't matter," _then tossed the note back to her. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she opened it and read. Watched as her face fell slightly before she decided their correspondence was done and tucked the note into her book bag.

Why had he been staring at her? That thought was now plaguing him. It hadn't mattered before, just that he _was_ staring, but now that she had brought it up, he could help but wonder. _Why? _Because she had kissed him? Because she was now suddenly untouchable. Because so was so damned bea-... whatever the reason really was, it escaped him at that moment. He just simply had to get her off his mind. He threw himself into his notes and managed to ignore her for the rest of the class.

After the bell rang, Ron realized what Hermione had been putting up with the remainder of the class. At once, Parvati and Lavender shot up out of their seats, running to the door. Ron figured they just had some hot date to prepare for until the stopped abruptly. There they stood, arms crossed in some attempt to be intimidating, blocking the doorway. He heard Hermione mutter something that sounded like "Oh for goodness sake!" under her breath before Lavender spoke.

"We're not moving until she agrees," she said with fortitude. Hermione mumbled "This is ridiculous" as she moved towards the front of the room. Before she reached the gossip twins, Draco Malfoy made an attempt to exit. They held fast.

"We meant it," Parvati explained. "No one." Malfoy glared at them, but gave in. At this point, Hermione had reached them. She stood in before the pair with a resolute expression.

"You're not going to win," she stated firmly. They were having a sort of stare down- a battle of wills.

"Really?" Lavender asked "Because it seems to us that you are about to make a class full of hungry seventh years late for their dinner. And thusly, a very angry bunch. Now, who will they blame?"

"How about the two idiots blocking the door?" Hermione quipped.

"Or how about the girl how could have just cooperated when she was asked on Saturday!" Parvati snapped back. "They will be angry with you, and you know it."

"Don't speak for the crowd," Malfoy sneered. "Personally, I blame you two. Now let me out." He was ignored by the three girls, though, and they continued their argument as though he had not said a word.

"Fine!" Hermione nearly shouted. "Fine, you win, I'll do it. Tonight in the common room." She made a move to leave, but found her path still blocked by the strangely wall-like girls.

"We don't trust you," Lavender stated.

"Do it here," Parviti continued. Hermione stared at them incredulously.

"I don't carry a guitar with me, you nincompoops!" she declared with venom. The faces of the gossip girls dropped for a moment, almost admitting defeat, before a voice came from the side.

"I do," it stated. Everybody turned to see Professor Ross, leaning nonchalantly against his desk. People stared at him with varying degrees of shock. Ron saw that Hermione looked offended, almost hurt by this statement. "I mean, that's what this is all about, right?" he continued. "I heard something about this deal. You want to hear some of Miss Granger's music, right? Well, why don't you play for them?" he asked, now talking just to Hermione.

"Because! I don't want to!" she sputtered. He raised an eyebrow.

"And why not?" he asked. She didn't respond, just turned to Ron weakly.

"Tell them to stop bothering me!" she pleaded. But Ron really just wanted to hear her sing some more. Why did she have such a problem with it anyway?

"I think you should do it," he said, trying not to see the sad, hurt, shocked look he received. "That song you sang for me was really good. And now they'll stop bothering you," he added quietly. That wasn't what she wanted to hear, either. She looked around the room helplessly for someone who didn't want to hear her sing. But even Malfoy was waiting for this song with anticipation, if only just to mock her. Finally, she admitted defeat.

"Alright," she said, all the vigor gone for her voice. "Bring it over here. I'll sing."

The professor disappeared into his office for a moment, then brought out an interesting instrument. It was an acoustic guitar, much like Hermione's, only it was rather decorated. Several photographs were taped with colorful, what was that stuff called.. Duct tape. Each picture seemed to be of a girl. Also, writing in the same duct tape, were the words "Your Name." A slight murmur passed through the crowed, but Hermione did not seem shocked by the guitar. She took it from her teacher without a second glance and strummed a chord. It sounded awful. She sent an accusatory glance at the instrument's owner.

"Why are you tuned in drop D?" she asked. No one else knew what that was, so just observed the exchange. The teacher shrugged. Hermione shook her head and twisted a knob on the neck of the guitar, playing that string until she was satisfied. "What should I play, then?" she asked.

"That's up to you," the Professor responded. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then a spark flew over her eye.

"I'll do this under one condition," she said. "When I'm done, it's your turn." Some people looked around for an explanation, so she continued. "You can't have a guitar like this and not write your own songs. So, when I do this, when I'm done, you will play a song for us, _Professor." _She had nearly hissed out the last word. Some people even flinched when she said it. But Professor Ross, if he noticed, didn't care. He nodded at her nicely.

"Alright, it's a deal," he stated. Then they watched as she went back to thinking. After a few more moments, she strummed out a chord, then another, then finally began singing.

"_I've got something up my sleeve that I don't want to show you  
Cause everytime I bleed I make a fool of me  
I've got shaky little fingers, that hold on to your grip  
You've got wrapped around my world  
So tight that I can't breathe  
I'm suffocating  
  
We come crashing down  
Everytime we go this far again  
We come tumbling down  
Everytime we go this far again  
Everytime we go  
  
I've got nothing that I hide except for what's inside  
I keep it all locked up, in this prison we call love  
I'm suffocating  
  
We come crashing down  
Everytime we go this far again  
We come tumbling down  
Everytime we go this far again  
Everytime we go"_

The response was the same as before, only on a much larger scale. Everyone stared at her like she had just grown an extra head. How did she ever become such a wordsmith? And where had she learned to play like that? Who knew that Hermione Granger could sing? And more importantly, in the minds of Parvati and Lavender, who was this song about?

The only one who didn't seem shocked was the Professor. He just watched her with a slight smile as she tried to throw off the stares of her classmates.

"Well," she said at last. "You have your song. I'm done now." She hopped from the desk she had been sitting on and handed the guitar to Professor Ross. "Your turn," she whispered. Parvati jumped up.

"Wait!" she said "We have to talk about your song, first!" Hermione sighed and crossed her arms, but waited for the other girl to continue. "It was really incredible. I had no idea you could do that. And you wrote it, too? Really, Hermione, I don't get why you are so modest and unproud of these works. I would kill to be able to write like that or sing like that or play something like that. And you can do all three!" And the end of this speech, Hermione had a healthy blush creeping up her neck.

"Yes... well..." she stuttered at first, then broke into a smile. "Thank you, Parvati!" The two shared a moment and then turned to their teacher. "Well?" He smiled at the two and Parvati giggled while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I've got a song picked out," he said and played an interesting riff. The second time through, he began singing.

"_When we laugh indoors, the blissful tones bounce off the walls and fall to the ground. Peel the hardwood back to let them loose from decades trapped and listen so still. _

_This city is my home, construction noise all day long and gutter punks are bumming change. So I breed thicker skin and let me lustrous coat fill in and I'll never admit that I loved you Guenivere. I loved you Guenivere. I loved you" _he repeated this line at least ten times, each one gaining more feeling, before he reached the climax of the song.

"_I've always fallen fast with too much trust in the promise that 'No one's ever been here, so you can quell those wet fears.' I want purity, I must have it here right now. But don't you get me started now. No don't you get me started now. Don't you get me. Don't you get me..._

_The summer's chill comes late, the days get darker and we wait for this direness to pass. There are piles on the floor of artifacts from dresser drawers, and I'll help you pack. I loved you Guenivere" _

Again, the line was repeated, only this time, midway through he switched the line to _I love you, Guenivere. _The girls in the room all blushed at this, his intensity almost being too much to handle. Ron looked over at Hermione, expecting her to be rolling her eyes as usual, but she simply _wasn't_.

She was staring at him with a matched intensity, their eyes locking occasionally as he sang the last line. This made Ron frown for whatever reason he couldn't think of. Finally the song ended, met by scattered applause and cheers.

As hungry as they all had been at the end of class, no one moved to leave when he was finished. Even the three Slytherin in the class (Malfoy, Pansy and Blaise) sat, waiting for some explanation. Malfoy spoke for that crew: "You must really like that one line. You certainly said it enough." He was ignored for the most part. Parvati spoke first of the rest of them.

"So, then, did you have a girlfriend named Guenivere?" she asked with a dreamy look in her eyes. The Professor shook his head.

"No, see it was an allusion," he explained. "A reference to something else. It this case, it was the story of King Arthur. His wife, named Guenivere, was known for her purity. So, when I say Guenivere in this song, I'm just calling the subject of the song pure." Some people 'ooh'ed in understanding.

"What was her name?" Lavender asked. Professor Ross grinned.

"Now, that's a secret," he said. Strangely, he looked at the front of his guitar. He picked one of the pictures, of a girl in a white room, wrapped in a white sheet with white light filtering in from behind her through a picture window. "That's her, though." A few people went up to look at the photo, Ron included. Hannah Abbot made an observation.

"These are all Muggle photographs!" she said.

"Yeah," their professor agreed. "I find it to be more of an art form than anything else." Ron looked at the other photos as some girls giggled and flirted with the youngest teacher at Hogwarts. He noticed that the pictures were all of women, all very artsy and none of their faces could be seen. There were four in all. As he looked back at the "Guenivere" photo, he felt some pang of familiarity that was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"Who are all these pictures of?" Ron asked, surprising himself.

"These are all the women I have ever loved," Professor Ross stated, running his fingers over the picture of a woman in the middle of a field in a park, doing a backbend. A tiny smile tugged up the corners of his mouth before he stood. "Now, I'm hungry. Everybody, class is fifteen minutes over. Get down to dinner."

-----

The seventh year N.E.W.T level Defense students were all abuzz at dinner. New information about a teacher was always welcome, especially the teacher who all the girls at the school had dubbed as "hott stuff". The stories flew quickly, about what an _artist _their teacher was. His _amazing _photography; his _incredible _way with words; his _sultry _voice. The only ones, it seemed, not engaged in this gossip were Harry, Hermione and Ron. The sat together, smiling in silence at the first dinner they had been able to eat together all year. They chatted idly at first until something dawned on Ron and he turned to Hermione.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" he accused. She smiled at him, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

"Did what?" she asked with a grin.

"Made Professor Ross play his song. You knew that if he did, everybody would be talking about him-"

"And no one would be talking about me," she finished for him. "Pretty genius, right?" Ron rolled his eyes at her, turning back to the melancholy Harry.

"So, what happened at lunch?" Ron asked. "Snape didn't seem too happy about having to talk to you."

"We went to a meeting in Dumbledore's office," he said with a nod. "They found out something. Lupin and Tonks, they found out some information." He paused, taking a bite of his shepherd's pie while Ron and Hermione waited with baited breath. "It wasn't much, but it seems Voldemort has made a discovery. We don't yet know what he discovered. All we really know is that if he gets what he's after, it will be detrimental." He paused again, taking another bite as his friends took in the information. "Also, we know what he'll do after he gets what he wants. If he gets it." Another bite. Ron couldn't stand this pausing anymore and he was sure that Harry was chewing longer than necessary.

"Well,?" he shot impatiently. Harry sent him a slight glare.

"He wants to reveal everything to the Muggles," he stated without any ado. "And he'll probably enslave the whole lot of them, if he has his way." His dark mood deepened and he didn't speak for the rest of the meal. Hermione looked worried, obviously thinking of her family. Ron put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it'll be okay," he said quietly. "Do you really think we'll let him get what he wants?" A small smile tugged at her lips. "Your family will be safe. Your mum and dad don't even need to know that something's wrong. And your little sister- what was her name?"

"Rosalind," she said with a smile.

"Right," he grinned back winningly, "Rosalind will be just fine, too. You know," he said, thinking "You know all about my family and all my siblings. But I only learned your sister's name a few moments ago. What is she like? How old is she? What was it like growing up with her? Tell me about her." Hermione sent him a questioning glance, before letting out a small laugh.

"Well, she's two years younger them I, making her sixteen right now. She's a Muggle, of course, but she's not like Harry's aunt at all. She's really happy for me and was so excited this summer when I could finally do magic at home. She's really great. Before I came here, we were something like best friends. Her and Madi and I. Madi and I were kind of misfits, both know it alls and what have you, but Rosalind just liked being with us. She was one of the most popular girls in her year. Even after I left, her and Madi stayed good friends. Anyway, Rosa is pretty short, but she has to be. She's a gymnast."

"Like, she does flips and stuff?" Ron asked, perplexed by this new addition to the Granger family. Hermione grinned.

"Yeah, like flips and stuff," she confirmed, rolling her eyes as if to say 'it's much more than just flips and stuff, dummy.' "And I've been told she looks a lot like me. Only, she never got the horrid big teeth and her hair is naturally smaller then mine. Or maybe she just learned how to take care of it earlier than I did. I don't really know. She's really great. One of the nicest people I know. That's why it killed me what happened to her last year. Not just because she's my sister, but because she is such a good person!" Ron watched her, dazzled by the emotion she was displaying. After a moment, she regained her composure and coughed slightly. "Look at me going on like this," she muttered, blushing slightly. Ron rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to have to meet her some day," he stated. "And I think it's entirely unfair that I've been your best friend for this long and haven't yet met her. It's like your holding out on me! Like there's little parts of you life I don't know a thing about." He stopped there, hoping she would catch what he was hinting. That he had seen what had passed between her and Professor Ross. The little glances, the secret smiles. It wasn't a secret from him. Looking at her giving him a sort of hurt look, he knew that she knew.

-----

The common room had the warm murmur of an October Monday that night, a well appreciated atmosphere. The trio was going over the essays they had gotten back that day, taking notes for future essays and tests. It was a habit they had gotten into the year before at Hermione's request. Of course, it had taken getting back the first few N.E.W.T level essays and tests for Ron and Harry to realize the importance of this act. So, they sat in a circle, reviewing and writing by the fire in the chairs they had used since first year.

When they came to their latest Defense essays, Hermione smiled. "He didn't really write anything noteworthy on my paper. What about you guys?" she said quickly. Harry brought out his scroll of parchment and began listing the improvements Professor Ross had suggested. While Hermione told him what things he should be writing down, Ron glanced over at her essay. There was quite a bit written in the red ink Professor Ross used to grade. If only he could make it out.... He shifted in his chair, trying to get a better look... he could read a bit of it upside down now "Hermione-" he called her by her first name? "A very well written essay, once again! Might want to elaborate on the defenses against this spell instead of flirting with your professor. It lacks tact.... I'm just messing with you, flirt all you want!-" Hermione shuffled her papers, sending him a look, so he dropped the issue.

They stayed in their little circle by the fire well after most of the other students left. All who remained was one second year girl who read too much and reminded Ron of someone very familiar. He looked at her for a few more moments before realizing that she was asleep at her little table. Ron smiled, remembering the times he had found Hermione in that position. He nudged Hermione with his toe, gesturing to the girl.

"Someone should get her to bed," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Someone means me, right?" she said, standing. "Of course, who else would do it. Actually, I think I might go to bed after this. I'm a bit tired." Harry nodded.

"Me too," he said quietly. "I've had a bit of a day." His friends nodded sympathetically, not being able to do anything more. Ron walked over to the little girl with Hermione, helping her gather the child- who was really, dead asleep- in her arms and steadied her as she started up the stairs to the girls' dorms. With her and Harry gone, Ron quickly realized that he was now alone. He smiled slightly, pulling a book out of his little corner. It was the tome Hermione had given him the prior Saturday. He hadn't had a proper chance to look at it yet and was welcoming of this chance. He opened to a random page, finding the Transparency Charm. The charmed object would enable a person to see through walls. Ron figured that this was one of the charms on Mad Eye's eye. It would be a hard one to do, he'd have to come back to it later. Flipping to a page earlier in the book, he found and interesting charm, it would make the pages of a book turn in accordance to when the reader finished the page. This one he might be able to do. He set his book down and took out his wand.

But he couldn't concentrate on it. It wasn't fifteen minutes later that he threw his wand into the book and leaned back against the chair. His thoughts drifted to her, just remembering her. Remembering every little detail he had ever noticed about her. He couldn't work on this little project right then.

He walked back over to his things, this time picking up a little blue Muggle notebook that he couldn't seem to part from. He only had one letter left to read. Only one. For some reason, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. It just seemed wrong. He didn't want to be done learning about her summer. He didn't want it to be over. He didn't want this little space where she shared all her thoughts with him to be filled. But he needed it right then.

_"Ron-_

_I don't think I'll every really be able to explain to you how I'm feeling right now. Hurt, that's for sure. Betrayed, that's another one. Stupid? Why not. Everything, I never thought I could experience such a range of emotions all at once. And all negative, too!_

_But I need to get some of this off my chest. I need to come clean with you- maybe then I'll be able to come clean with myself. I can only hope._

_I've written about Jamie before. I know I have but I don't think I've ever explained him. He's twenty five, born and raised in New York. He used to be a Presule, that's like an American Auror. And, well, I guess he's been my boyfriend for most of the summer. If that's what you can call what we had. I thought I loved him. Thought. I really doubt that now. I don't know why. He's leaving now. Actually, he already left. For some strange reason, I thought that I might be able to change him. To make him see his worth. But, he's left now. Won't tell me where he's going. Just says that this is an opportunity he can't pass up and it's what he thinks he should be doing. It's probably some stupid band! That's all he can ever think about, music! When I first met him, it was so appealing, but now... it's just annoying! Like you and Quidditch, at first, you know, I could listen to you talk about it, but it got old after a while. And now I just feel like such a complete idiot for thinking all these things about him and... and... well... we were... fairly close. Intimate. Oh, you're not going to get that.... We... For goodness sake! I slept with him. Was that so hard to write?... actually it was. I'm sorry if I gave you a shock there, Ron. I just needed you to know for some reason. I'd like to say that I just needed someone to know, but that's not true. I needed _you _to know. And for some reason I feel the need to apologize to you about it. That's weird, right?_

_I can't believe I'm about to write this next part. You see, there's something else I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Back in.. God.. Third year maybe? It's been a long time coming, and it's very late. And I don't even think I can't tell you now... not like this. I'd need to tell you face to face. I'll do that! This next year, I'll tell you finally, and then everything will be right again! Right for the first time! I don't really know which. Maybe I never will. _

_But I don't ever want you to doubt the way I feel for you. That came out of the blue, didn't it? How is it I feel for you, you may ask? Well... you are the best friend I've ever had. I mean that with all of my heart. And yet, so much more than that, too! You are... you are... I don't even know how to say it! But, just know... I'll always be there for you. Any way you need me. _

_Do you remember all those times we kissed? I do. I think about it a lot, actually... I've never admitted that before. Every year it happened! And, yes, I remember second year. Very vividly, as it was the first conscious memory I had after the whole ordeal. Thank you for that. And.. Last year... thank you. Just thank you, Ron! For all those times you've been there for me! For all the times we fought, but then made up! For teaching me the importance of not being so serious all the time! Hell, for teaching me how to misbehave! I'll always be grateful to you. But not in a debt kind of way, just in... an appreciative way, I guess._

_I just got my owl for school, and sent you that horridly short letter. I'm head girl! You're head boy, right? I just know you are. Who else would it be? Or maybe I just hope you are...._

_Ron.... If you every want something different between you and me.... If you ever start to feel a different way... please just tell me... because I have the feeling I'm too much of a coward to come out and tell you.... Anyway... I'll see you soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione"_

He stared at the pages for an age. What was she saying? Did she fancy him?... No it sounded like much more than just a fancy. It sounded.... In all her recent letters, she had closed with "Luv ya!". Even the letter she had sent him had that closing. But this letter was different. It seemed more like her old self, when she'd write "Love from". But this still was different. It was simple. "Love" Love? Did she mean that? Did she... love him? Could her feelings extend that far? Could _his? _Moreover, why had he never thought of this before?

Of course, that wasn't true. He had thought about it. Or, he had almost thought it. But, he would always get scared and push the thoughts away. Now he was kicking himself once again for being so blind. She did. And...

He thought back on that day. All the little things he had noticed. He thought back on their entire friendship. It was so obvious. He was so blind. Maybe he had known it all along. Maybe that's why her words had hurt him so deeply. Maybe, maybe, maybe....

No, there was no maybe anymore. He was done with being indecisive. It was time to admit the way he felt.

He loved Hermione.

As soon as he thought the words, a smile broke out over his face. He tried the words out, seeing how they sounded on his tongue. "I love Hermione" he whispered. His heart leapt out of his chest and bounded around the room. He had finally realized it, after all this time!

And now he needed to tell her. He needed her to know as soon as was physically possible. She was asleep right now, up in her dorm. He couldn't get up there. Damn! He cursed and looked around the room, hoping for some answer to his problems. Then he heard the noise on the stairs. Someone was coming down from the girl's dorm. _Please let it be her _he thought. For once, his prayers were answered.

There she was, suddenly looking very different from the way he remembered. She was a beautiful woman. Sure, he had noticed it before, but with resentment. This time, there was only reverence.

"Hermione," he said dumbly. She looked over at him with shock written over her face. She obviously hadn't been expecting to see anyone in the common room this late.

"Ron?" she asked with shock. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I was looking over that book you gave me," he answered honestly. He had been looking at the book at first. "I didn't realize it was so late. What about you?" his question seemed to catch her off guard, but a moment later she regained her composure.

"Patrolling," she said, then made a move for the door. No! His chance was passing! He crossed the room to where she was and caught her arm.

"I finished reading your letters," he said. She looked at him, obviously not understanding what he was on about. "And... I've realized something. I.. Hermione..." he leaned over her, whispering in her ear with what little voice he had left. "Hermione, I think... I mean, I know.... Well, I... I love you." He kissed her earlobe then pulled away. He was discouraged by what he saw. She was staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. Eyes that were... full of tears? Why would she be crying? Those didn't look like tears of joy....

"Ron?" her voice was a broken whisper. "Ron... oh.. God... I.. I don't..." she pushed away from him. "I can't do this right now," she mumbled. Then walked out. And he couldn't help but think of how beautiful she looked, stumbling out the portrait hole.

-----

As soon as she entered the hallway, she collapsed against the wall, sliding down. What had she done? This might be the only chance she had!

"He loves me," she said, a smile breaking over her face. "He loves me, and he admitted to it, and he told me, and he _loves me._" Her smile fell. "And I just ran out. What have I done?! I need to go back there, tell him that I love him too.... I need to..." she stood, looked at the portrait of the fat lady, dread filling her chest.

"But, it might not work. We might drift apart. We might not even be friends if things don't work now. I can't loose him. Not even as a friend. I need him." She held two hands in front of her, looking at them. She held one out further. "I have him forever, guaranteed, but only as a friend" She held out the other. "I have him as more than a friend, but I could loose him." She weighed the dilemma in her hands like a scale, eventually choosing between them. She looked mournfully back at the portrait.

"Looks like I take the cowards way again. Who's idea of a joke was it to sort me into Gryffindor?"

* * *

So, there it is. Sorry about the delay in author's notes. I was going on a trip this last weekend and wanted to get the chapter up so you could have some reading materials over Labor day weekend. Unfortunately, I can't judge the passing of time, so I had to post before proofreading. Or adding author's notes. As you may have noticed. Sorry about the previous spelling errors, I've corrected all that I can. And this whole story is getting a makeover when Caroline gets off her butt and proofreads like she said she would. But enough about me. 

I really liked this chapter. And I realized that Hermione has been acting like a bit of a dumb butt, so I decided to explain how she was thinking a bit. Yeah. But, really, they have to go through some anguish before they get to be happy couple. Yeah. Be expecting eeeeven more. Things have just begun to start to get interesting.

Thank you reviewers, again!

Commodore Norrington: Yay for consistent reviewers! And Hermione's got a lot on her mind, so it's alright. Or it will be later, at least. And I love Draco, so I couldn't just have him as a villain!

Maken-Wood: Yay band geeks! And thank you ever so much for the praise! I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my earmuffs!... Sorry... rereading book 1... Can't help myself.

Chatterboxgirl: Like I said, the emotional stuff goes on for a while longer. I tried to keep this chapter lighter.... think I might have failed. Not to worry, next chapter is shaping up to be angst free and even contains a bit of fluff! Hoorah!

KelseyRadcliff: Thanks! And keep your mind open, I might just change things up on you. Though, you probably do know a bit of what's going on. Like I've said from the beginning, I was never trying to be that subtle!

Behkie: Thanks! Interesting idea, by the way.

Momo: Your enthusiasm always brightens my day! Yahoo!

Somebody here noticed something nobody else did. And they get a cookie.

Okay, these are by far the longest ANs that I have ever written or will ever write. Sorry for the lack of constancy in updates. I hate to say that it'll probably just get worse for a while. But I will try to have a chapter up at every two weeks. Hopefully sooner than that.

Cheers!


	7. October Air

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't think I really own anything... not even my car. Geez...

Warnings: Language? I think. Probably. Oh, and sexual innuendo. Because no story is complete without a little innuendo.

Author's Notes: Holy moly I am late with this! My apologies, my friends, life's been crazy. And by life I mean band. Like there's a difference. Luckily, band season is basically over. _And _I've got quite a bit of chapter eight written, so that'll hopefully be out within the next week. Hopefully. Well.... Hope you like this chapter. It's not my favorite, to be honest. But, it makes up for the angst I've been putting everybody through lately, I hope. Because I went fluff crazy. W00t. So without further ado... Read, and review....

Sincerely,

Me

Chapter Seven:

October Air

His time with her was a paradox. Of course, since the night of the awful confession, the horrible rejection, it had been hell spending time around her. There was always this little voice tugging at the back of his mind. 'She doesn't want to be with you,' it would remind him. But being around her had always been able to put him at ease. So, the more time he spent with her, the duller the pain in his heart became. In fact, whenever he was with her, he tended to fill with a glowing warmth.

But nothing came of it. October marched proudly on, the days getting cooler and the crisp air of autumn settled in the grounds. Things settled down, fell back into place. They kept to old traditions, started new ones, spent more time as their unbreakable triad. Soon, it was as though _nothing had happened at all._

Though, since that fateful Monday, some things had changed. Hermione was more open about singing. From time to time she would sit in the common room with her guitar and play. Not always her songs, in fact she usually played tunes that people could sing along to. Things that people knew.

Every Monday after that, as well, the seventh year Defense students stayed in their last class after dismissal to talk to their teacher. The girls were infatuated with him and the boys were mostly fascinated by the attention he drew. He had become a mentor to many and a friend to more.

Halloween would fall on a Saturday that year and it would be a Hogsmead day to honor it. Upon the request of nearly every girl she knew, Hermione had petitioned for a change from the traditional Halloween feast. A festival for the younger students who didn't get to go to Hogsmead or the older students who had grown bored of it. And the responsibility of organizing it, of course, fell with the Head Boy and Girl. Ron didn't mind. Any excuse to spend time with Hermione was very welcome.

Mid-October found the pair of them by the roaring Gryffindor fire, planning the fair. It was late- well past midnight- and they had butterbeer and hot cocoa from the kitchens keeping them awake. This combination also managed to put them into strange moods. Hermione had her guitar out and had been singing her half of the conversation for the past hour.

"Perhaps," she sang, "We could have a sort of costume contest." Ron rolled his eyes. He had long ago gotten used to the singing. His response was to lay upside-down in his chair. He said it would help him think, but so far all it had managed to do was change his face the same color as his hair.

"No one in the wizarding world dresses up for Halloween," he informed her. She glared playfully.

"Shut up," she sang, "I know that. I'm working on lack of sleep and stupid Muggle traditions. You idiot."

"Stop singing!" he nearly shouted, the annoyance finally grating on his nerves. She laughed cherubically.

"Make me," she sang teasingly. She stuck her tongue out in a very childish gesture, causing him to laugh back at her.

"I could if I wanted," Ron teased back. "I just don't think you want me to."

"Liar," she sang, "Liar liar pants on fire!"

"I'm not lying!" he exclaimed, rolling out of his chair clumsily. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her.

"You are bluffing," she sang, the teasing tone in her voice becoming more and more evident.

"I," he started, crawling towards her on the floor, adding to the silliness of the evening. "am" He pulled the guitar away from her, placing it on the floor next to her chair. "not" He sat up on his knees, his eyes now level with hers. He playfully tapped her nose and brushed some hair out of her eyes. "Bluffing" the last word was a whisper, spoken into her lips as he kissed her. He pulled away after a single sweet moment, looking into her shocked eyes. Almost immediately, her face broke out into a surprised, big smile.

"You're really good at that, you know," she murmured breathily.

"I suppose," he replied, twirling some of her hair around his finger. "More importantly, I got you to stop singing." He flicked her nose to emphasize his point. She looked surprised for a moment, then attempted to glare at him. She only managed to wrinkle her nose a little. It was so comical, that whole night was such a joke that he had to laugh. After a moment he heard her join in. They laughed like that for a few minutes until they decided the goofy night should be brought to a close and headed up to bed.

He swore to himself the that would be the only time he really let his feelings for her show. He had taken her quick retreat as a pretty sure sign of what she felt. Or rather, didn't feel. He didn't push it after that. He didn't want their friendship plagued with some uncertainty.

But still. There was a vague outline of a plan starting to form on his mind.

Saturday the common room was full of laughter and music. As it turned out, Hermione wasn't the only Gryffindor hiding musical talent. Seamus had a fiddle and usually played some lively Irish jig that made them all want to jump up and dance around the room. Colin Creevy had a saxophone and a talent for jazz. Parvati had a piano (which she kept with her by using a shrinking charm) and played some pop music songs. They took turns entertaining their housemates. Occasionally, one would play a song people would recognize and they'd sing along. Whenever Hermione's turn came up, they would of course ask her to play on of her songs. She would smile and start on a tune they all knew and would most likely sing with.

Presently Lavender was pouting at Hermione, begging once again for a song written by the girl. Once again, Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. But this time, her response differed a bit.

"I won't play one of mine," she said to the groans of the crowd. "But, I'm warming up to you. So I'll sing a song by a friend of mine, Jeremiah. I met him this summer in New York."

Ron nodded at this, she had spoken about this Jeremiah in her letters. He was in that band of hers. Presently, she was beginning the sad sounding sound with a few chords then began singing. The lyrics were interesting, about the life and death of the writer's dead-beat father. The lyrics were well written but different from Hermione's style. He was surprised that he knew she had a style, let alone what it was, but shook his head and enjoyed her voice. The end of the song didn't bring about any particular discussion, but Lavender and Parvati giggled into their hands, obviously thinking about the "warming up to you" comment.

It was strange for her to be singing like this right now. There was work that could be done. Ron himself was working on a Potions essay. He reminded himself that she had probably already finished it. But still. She was the one wasting time while he was working. It was unheard of!

Not that he was getting that much work done. She was just too distracting. Even when she wasn't the one in the spotlight she fascinated him. When music was being played she was enraptured by it, as he was by her. A silly smile would be plastered across her face and she'd sway or sing if she knew the song (and she tended to know every song that had words. Even a few played by Seamus or Colin that didn't seem to have words would be familiar to her. Ron found this very entertaining.) From time to time she'd play a guitar part to the others' songs. Looking down at his essay, he blew it off as a lost cause, rolling up the scroll. He got up from his seat and crossed to the sofa she was sitting on, blithely humming along to some jazz tune Colin was playing. He plopped down beside her, making a big show of putting his arm around her. This was another sign of how things had changed. He would do this quite often now, play up some affection towards her. Trying to play off his announcement as a joke. He wasn't sure if she bought it. But, she went along and it was fun. He got to show how he felt for her without having to worry about how she felt. Of course, sometimes it hurt like hell, but there was nothing to be done about that.

She was rolling her eyes at him now. He grinned at her. For a single moment, their eyes locked and he knew he couldn't hide the truth. It was written there in his gaze, but for that one fleeting moment he thought he saw something in hers. Maybe, just maybe she really did feel the same way. He could almost feel the distance between them closing when a noise interrupted them. Looking up they saw Dean and Seamus making kissy faces at them while Parvati and Lavender giggled into their hands. The ridiculed pair was almost synchronized in their eye roll, though Ron hoped no one noticed the pink tinge at the tips of his ears.

Hermione stood and looked at him. "We've got to work on the plans for Halloween," she stated. Ron nodded at her, standing as well. Lavender had jumped up, too for some reason.

"About that!" she nearly shouted, causing not only Ron and Hermione but half the common room to look at her. "I was talking to Dean and he said that there was a Muggle tradition on Halloween, that they all dress up in costume. We should do that! We could have a contest for the best one. It would be like a masquerade ball!" That suggestion sounded oddly familiar. He tried to ignore the 'told you so' look he was getting from his friend.

"That sounds like a great idea, Lavender!" Hermione said cheerfully. She turned back to Ron with an insufferable smile. "It's too noisy in here. Shall we go to the library?" He nodded back at her, then turned to the table in the corner.

"Hey Harry!" he called, "We're going to the library. Care to join us?"

Harry, however, didn't answer. He seemed a bit preoccupied talking to a fifth year girl. She was listing with rapt attention as he dramatically spun her some tale of adventure. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look and a grin before heading out to the library.

------

The two heads of school, it seemed, were far too loud for Madam Pince, who had thrown them out of the library twenty minutes prior. As such, they were presently sprawled in the shade under a big oak tree by the lake. They liked this place better anyway.

"We need to have a part of the fair that's a dance," Hermione said, scribbling a note on a piece of parchment she had brought with her. "Not anything formal like the Yule Ball, just some music and a dance floor."

"We _need _to?" Ron repeated. "Says who?" Dancing? That couldn't lead to anything good. Hermione raised her eyes slightly, looking seriously at him.

"Says every girl I know at this school," she explained shortly before looking back at her notes.

"Where will we get music?" Ron asked desperately, wanting this idea to be shelved and fast. She looked up again, not at him this time, just thinking. She was seriously pondering what he had just said. Victory!

"At the Ball somehow Dumbledore got the Weird Sisters," Hermione recalled. "But that was a big occasion. I doubt we could get them again." Yes! She'd have to give in! "Of course we could try and find a smaller band," Bollocks. "But I honestly don't think we could find a band in Hogsmead" Hoorah! "Why am I even thinking live music? A DJ would be much more practical in this situation." Shi- what?

"What's a geeday?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione like she had grown an extra head.

"Honestly, Ron, you're the one who should have taken Muggle studies!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air with a laugh. "Alright, a DJ. I explained CDs to you once, right? Little Muggle disks with music recorded on them. Well, people use these disks to play music at events like this or on radio stations or whatever. And the people who play music handle these disks and are called disk jockeys, or DJs. Get it?"

"Yes. But, that's Muggle technology. It won't work on Hogwarts grounds," Ron remembered, mentally high fiving himself. Hermione smiled too and sat up to better debate him.

"You finally remembered something I told you about this school! Good for you!" she said sarcastically. "And as to the technology, surely you've heard of Chameleon charms. Making an object that looks and acts like a Muggle object but runs completely off of magic. The Hogwarts Express is one. The Knight Bus is another. Well, recently, someone came up with a CD player with a Chameleon Charm! So, we can play both Muggle CDs and wizard music, as a lot of wizard bands have started recording CDs. Problem solved."

"Where are we going to find a ceejay-"

"DJ"

"-in Hogsmead?" Ron asked, thinking he had surly won. He was about to smirk victoriously, but she beat him to it.

"I don't expect to," she said. "Not in Hogsmead" Ron did smirk at this. "Luckily, I already had someone in mind. My friend Jeremiah told me about her- she's supposed to be one of the best DJs in London. Plus she's a Hogwarts alumna so I bet she'd be glad to come help us out." Ron's smile had long about faded into a defeated frown. Hermione nudged his shoulder. "Come on, why are you so against this?" she coaxed. "It'll be fun! Everyone'll have a ball! Oh, wait," she stopped, thinking of something. She grinned once more, mischievously. "You don't know how do dance, do you?" she asked. Ron looked up sharply at this, shock and disbelief written over his face.

"Of course I can dance!" he defended hotly causing Hermione to laugh.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Because I never saw you dance at the Yule Ball. I think you just didn't want to embarrass yourself."

"I can dance," he proclaimed again. "I didn't dance at the Yule Ball because I was too preoccupied wanting to punch Viktor 'dumb-as-a-monkey' Krum in his ugly nose" Hermione blushed as she remembered this then sent a look that screamed 'prove-it'. "Stand up," he demanded, doing so himself.

"What?" she asked. He extended a hand to her.

"Stand up," he repeated. She took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. Immediately, he pulled her against him, trying to ignore the heat brought by the nearness. He placed a hand on her waist and she brought hers to his shoulder. "What shall we start with? A waltz?" He didn't wait for her response, but began the easy movements of that dance, leading her around the big oak tree. After a minute of that he interrupted their dance. "How about a tango?" he suggested, again starting that more sultry dance without waiting for a response. Hermione laughed and blushed (especially during low dips when his hand found its way to her leg) but she had no problem following him. After a few minutes of tango, Hermione got a mischievous look in her eye.

"How about swing?" she suggested with a sly smirk. Ron smiled at her, responding by changing the dance again into the easy moves of a basic swing. After a few moments of getting comfortable, Ron spun her easily and she followed gracefully. They danced to the music in their heads and with each move they tested each other, trying to find the limit to their skill. At last, Ron decided to try an easy toss. That was when their dance fell apart. Literally. Hermione didn't get up enough momentum and toppled to the ground, bringing Ron with her. They lay together, laughing in the cool October grass. Her head was resting on his chest with her body a perpendicular angle from his. Ron was glad about that, or else he just might have to kiss her again, and that was what had started this whole mess. As their laughter died, she looked up at him.

"Okay, so you can dance," she ceded. "Why don't you want there to be a dance?"

_This is why, _he thought. _I don't think I could stand this closeness if it isn't real. _But, as he lay there, basking in their nearness, Ron forgot why. Being with her erased the fear of being with her. He smiled warmly.

"I just thought it was kinda dumb," he lied. "But, I suppose, if all the girls in the school really want it... we can do it."

"Like you could have stopped me!" Hermione shot back at his 'allowance.' They laughed again, and before he could stop himself, he brushed her hair behind her ear. Then he saw it.

At first he thought it was just a shadow. But shadows weren't usually red like that. He brushed the spot lightly, the skin of her neck soft beneath his fingers.

"What's that?" he asked softly. Her hand went to the spot his hand had just been, her eyes wide for a moment. She sat up, brushing her hair over her shoulder to hide the spot.

"It's nothing," she muttered then quickly stood. "I just remembered I have somewhere to be. I'll take care of getting the DJ and arranging the dance. You start asking around for volunteers to help with the booths. Remember, only seventh year students can help. Otherwise, ask teachers or people who live in Hogsmead." She said that all very fast while gathering her things. She finished that and, with a small wave, hurried back to the castle.

It wasn't nothing. That spot was definitely something. He had seen it before on almost all of his brothers. They called it a 'hicky' and it was usually accompanied by some story of conquest. Ron stared mournfully at the retreating form of his friend, a sinking suspicion settling in his stomach.

-----

As Halloween quickly approached, life got a lot more hectic for the Head Boy and Girl. One of the only times they had to relax came with their Monday 'Hang with Prof Ross' time. It was always great to be able to hang out with not only their teacher, but the students of their year from other houses. A lot of the time they sat around telling funny stories and reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts. Ron wished an occasion like this had come up earlier: most of these kids were really interesting. It was mostly the Ravenclaws that Ron didn't know. There were four new to him in this class, two (Terry Boot and Su Li) who seemed kind of uptight, and two (Kevin Entwhistle and Lisa Turpin) who reminded him of the twins. Along with them were Padma Patil and Ginny's ex-beau Michael Corner. Three Hufflepuffs, Ernie, Justin and Hannah, he had already been friends with, but there were two others who seemed really nice. Sally-Anne Parks and Rebecca Moon were the Hufflepuff equivalent of Parvait and Lavender; pretty and always ready to gossip. The Slytherins Ron already knew on a rival basis but not as anything else. Pansy and Blaise were as void of personality as he had originally thought, but were good at listening to people they thought were cool. Malfoy had, indeed, gotten more clever over the summer and was actually funny from time to time. And, true to their first observation, he had didn't make a single 'Mudblood' comment. They had stopped finding it strange.

What they did find strange was his actions on one of these Monday sessions. Professor Ross had out his guitar and was busy being admired. Ron was looking longingly at the instrument and teacher.

"I wish I could play the guitar," he admitted. It was true, he felt like the only tone deaf one in the school. "I wish I _had _a guitar."

Malfoy snorted. "I seriously doubt, Weasley," he drawled in that silky voice he reserved for the lowest insults "that you could affor-" he cut off abruptly at that, a strange look crossing his face. A look of guilt, almost. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of their own.

"What, Malfoy?" Ron asked. He seemed to return from wherever he had gone and sneered at them.

"I was just thinking," he said in a somewhat strained tone. "I've been tiring out that old insult for almost seven years, if not more. I think it's high time I found a new one, right? How about this for now, Hermione's ugly cat, who I have had the misfortune of seeing (really, woman, that is a ugly cat!), could play better that you. Not to mention that the ugly cat would look better on stage. Though I'm not sure people could tell the difference, what with the similarities in hair color and ugly noses." Malfoy put on a mocking look of thought for a moment, trying to decide if the insult was to his liking. "I suppose that will do for now. I'll think of something better later." he had said all of this somewhat faster than his usual pace and Ron swore there was a pink tinge in his cheeks.

Ron and Hermione stared with utter disbelief as Malfoy turned to talk to that Slytherin witch Blaise. "My cat isn't ugly," Hermione muttered weakly under her breath. Ron was trying to make sense of what he had just heard when Ross began playing a rather familiar sounding sad song. "This was written by a friend of mine back in New York," he heard him say and Hermione gasped. She spun around and said loudly, "Actually, Professor, I had another idea."

"Oh?" Ross said, stopping the song. "What's that?"

"Do you know the band Death Cab for Cutie?"

"Do I know Death Cab," he repeated in an almost mocking tone. "Of course I know Death Cab!"

"Do you know the song A Lack of Color?"

"What do you mean by know?"

"How to play it."

"Yes"

Hermione smiled. "Then wait right here. I'll be back in a moment," she said excitedly, hurrying out of the classroom. She stuck her head back in a second later. "And don't play anything until I get back!"

There was a few moments silence in her wake, then the chatter resumed. Ron walked over to Harry (who had been talking with the Ravenclaws) and began to explain about Malfoy's odd behavior. Just as he finished Hermione bustled back in, this time with her guitar.

Whispers filled the room as she crossed to Ross's desk and plopped onto it, right next to the professor himself. She pulled out her guitar and began to play. He let out a tiny laugh as she did this, shaking his head. She glanced up at him, a playful and almost challenging look in her eye. Ross shook his head again and started playing an accompanying part. Hermione smiled again and began singing.

_"And when I see you, I really see you upside down. But my brain knows better, it picks you up and turns you around. Turns you around, turns you around. If you feel discouraged; that there's a lack of color here. Please don't worry lover. It's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything. The spectrum's a to z."_

Up until now, Ross only played, being silent through her singing. It was almost a shock to some when the two of them sang together in a perfect harmony. No words, just "Oh", very pretty sounding. They smiled at each other, then Ross started to sing.

"_This fact, not fiction, for the first time in years. And the girls in every girlie magazine can't make me feel any less alone. I'm reaching for the phone_." On the last line Hermione had joined again in harmony, then they continued on in such. "_To call at 7:03 and on your machine I'd slur a plea for you to come home. But I know it's too late. I should have given you a reason to stay. Given you a reason to stay. Given you a reason to stay. Given you a reason to stay...."_

They both stopped singing for a moment, the guitar parts changing to indicate the approach of the end of the song. Hermione looked around the room with a grin. She caught Ron's eye and smiled the smile she saved just for him. Then she sang the final line of the song, looking straight into his eyes they whole time.

"This is fact, not fiction, for the first time in years..."

It was crazy, but for a moment it seem like she was singing it just to him.

The song ended soon after, but Ron didn't notice. Her gaze hadn't wavered from his and it was having a strange effect on him. His chest felt tight and he was having trouble breathing. They were interrupted a moment later when everyone started out of the classroom. Professor Ross must have dismissed them. Hermione looked away with a blush and picked up her bag, hurrying out the door to put away her guitar before heading o the Great Hall. Ron was left to gather his things in a stupor and walk in a daze to dinner.

-----

"So, what's the dirt for today?" Ginny asked at dinner. It was the way she always unwound. She'd ask Parvati and Lavender about the gossip that they uncovered that day. The gossip twins would graciously oblige. Ron, Hermione and Harry (along with a few other Gryffindors) would listen and occasionally add something.

"Today's been kind of slow," Parvati said. "Justin asked Sally-Anne to Hogsmead-"

"Even though he knew she was going with Michael Corner-" Lavender continued.

"Who is supposed to be one of Justin's best friends," Parvati finished.

"But, other than that, it's been pretty slow," Lavender said. Parvati looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "Hannah said she had a story to tell me, one that had traumatized her, but I'm not sure if that's a worthy lead. Hannah can exaggerate sometimes." Ginny leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands thoughtfully.

"Any developments on the teacher/student affair?" she asked. Hermione looked at her.

"What's that?" she asked.

"P and L think that there's a student and a teacher in the school who are 'romantically involved'," Ginny explained. "Haven't you heard?"

Hermione's eyebrows were raised. "No, I haven't," she admitted. "Do you know who it is?"

"Nope, not yet," Lavender said. "All we know is what Ernie and Hannah and a few other Prefects have overheard."

"But we're working on it," Parvati said. "This could be the biggest bit of gossip to hit Hogwarts since.... Sharon Crippe got pregnant in 1990!" Lavender gasped, this obviously meaning something to her, though no one else knew who Sharon Crippe was, nor did they care.

After recovering from her shock at the mention of the be-famed Sharon Crippe, Lavender continued. "We've got the teacher narrowed down. It's not based on anything solid, just a processes of elimination, so best not to mention this. Don't want to spread a lie that could cost a person their job. But..." she lowered her voice and those listening leaned in to hear her. "The most likely candidate (and it's obvious when you think about it) is none other than our favorite new faculty member; Professor Ross." There were a few gasps and giggles and everyone began chatting about this among themselves, returning to their food.

Ron was about to bite into his turkey when he remembered something that was bothering him. He put down the food with a grin. "I've got an interesting story, let's see what you make of this!" With that he conveyed Malfoy's odd actions of that day. "So, what do you think he's up to?"

"Just more of the same," Hermione concluded.

"How do you figure that?" Ron asked. "He was obviously just about to rib me for being poor. He's never had a problem in doing that before. The only change he made this year was that he stopped calling you a Mudblood."

"Yes but you must have noticed he's been a bit more agreeable this year," Hermione continued. "His character has slowly been improving."

"She's right, you know," said Sarah Petters, one of the Quiditch reserves for Gryffindor. "I actually had an intelligent conversation with him in the library the other day. He was actually funny. Really funny. I-nearly-wet-myself funny." A few people at the table chuckled and Hermione grinned at her.

"But, what does that mean?" Ron asked. "Why would he decide that he doesn't want to insult my family anymore?"

"Well, it could be for a number of reasons," Hermione continued. "A, perhaps he finally realized that is a dumb thing to tease a person about. B, he might have remembered that now that he is out of Daddy's good graces he doesn't have any money to speak of, so it's inviting trouble to tease someone else about it. Or.. C." She trailed off after C, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"What's C?" Harry asked.

"Well...." she looked around. "The reason he no longer insults people who have Muggle parents, we've been able to gather, is that he dated a girl with a Muggle parent." She paused, looking around to see if anyone understood. She got a few blank stares. "So, C says that perhaps the reason he doesn't want to insult someone doesn't have much money is that he's dating someone who doesn't." Ginny let out a laugh, causing a few people to stare at her. She shook her head.

"Parvati, Lavender, is Draco Malfoy currently dating anyone?" she asked. The pair shook their heads.

"Not that we know of," Parvati said.

"And we know of a lot," Lavender finished. Ginny looked smugly triumphant.

"So there," she stated with finality. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I was just stating a possibility," she said coolly. "One of three if you recall."

"Well, Ginny said, blushing slightly. "Now there's only two."

"Not necessarily," Hermione contradicted, probing Ginny with a thoughtful eye. "Perhaps it isn't someone he's currently dating. Maybe it's a girl he has a crush on. Maybe it's that girl he was dating this summer and he's just made the connection. Maybe he's seeing someone in secret." She sent Ginny a questioning look, causing the girl to blush more.

"That's unlikely," Lavender said. "We make sure it's our business to know everything that goes on at this school. And I can assure you, right now, Malfoy's love life is nonexistent." Hermione turned a sharp eye to her.

"You know everything that goes on at this school," she repeated. "Well, then who is this student you claim is screwing Professor Ross?" Lavender's smile fell. "There's a lot that goes on at this school that you don't know of."

They were quiet for a moment, no one wanting to be the one to break the uncomfortable silence left by those strange exchanges. Luckily no one had to as Sally-Anne Parks came to talk to Hermione. She wanted, like many others to come, to talk about the performance in Defense class. While she went on about how cool the song was, Hermione sent a smile to Ron. Once again, he felt like she was singing just for him.

-----

The final week of October passed in a blur. Somehow everything fell into place and the fair was shaping up to be something students would talk about for a long time. On the evening of the 30th, the night before everything would happen, the Head Boy and Girl were up late in their Common Room, checking and double checking and finalizing everything.

"And you're sure that Mr. Zonko's display won't be too dangerous?" Hermione asked, frantically scanning her notes.

"Positive," Ron told her. "He gave me a preview when I went down there the other day. It'll be great _and _it'll be safe."

"And Mr. Honeyduke?" she asked, picking up another page of parchment, her brows knitting together even further then they were. "He's still set to have a booth, right? A large one? He didn't change anything at the last minute?" She'd been this way for a while now, very frantic and worried and reviewing all her notes. Ron had seen her get this way around exam time before. He found it wildly entertaining.

"Oh, yes, him" he said seriously, looking over some notes of his own. "Mr. Honeyduke said.... 'I don't want to do this. Stop bothering me. Get out of my shop, you ninny'." Hermione looked up with wide eyes.

"_What?!" _she exclaimed, looking a little pale. Ron laughed.

"Relax, I'm joking!" he said. "Mr. and Mrs. H are still in all the way _and _are very excited about judging the costume contest. Loosen up a bit, everything will work out wonderfully!" Hermione blushed slightly, but physically did loosen. She relaxed her shoulders and her brows un-knitted.

"That was a cruel and spiteful joke to play, "she said.

"Ah, yes, perhaps," Ron admitted. "But it got you to relax, so mission accomplished, I say" Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled weakly. "Really, don't worry. I talked to everybody running booths today and they're all still in, and very excited I might add. What about you?" Hermione shuffled her notes, but obviously didn't need them to know her exact status at the moment.

"Everything is set," she said with a smile. "The booths are here and set up for the most part. Cosette is coming up form London as we speak. She'll arrive in Hogsmead tonight. The only thing that isn't completed- and this is why the booths are only up for the most part- is the decorations. My committee for that is in the Room of Requirement right now, working on that. I should go check on them," she said, starting to get up.

"Hermione!" Ron said quickly, grabbing her hand to keep her from standing. "You left Susan in charge of that. She can handle this. Just relax!" As he said this he rubbed her hand slightly with his thumb. She smiled at him and sat back down. Their eyes locked and a familiar feeling came over him. _now or never _he thought. "Hermione?"

"Yeah?" her voice seemed smaller than usual and her eyes were probing his in a strange new fashion.

"I... ummm," he started. His throat was suddenly tight and his mouth was dry. "It's just.... I.." he stared out the window to escape her gaze. It was pitch night out there. "It's late," he said. Hermione looked to the window too, nodding. "We should probably get to bed. We've got a busy day tomorrow." '_Coward!_' his mind shouted at him as they headed for the stairs. '_Coward, coward, coward!_' "About tomorrow!" he blurted out quickly and without thinking.

"What about it?" Hermione asked, turning to him, looking a little worried. Did she think it was more about the plans? She couldn't....

"I was... wondering..." he began, his tongue suddenly made of lead. "if you... would maybe... want to go with me." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we were going together," she stated. "you, me and Harry, like always." Ron stared at her for a moment. She didn't get what he was asking. He had to laugh, at least smile at that, and took her hand again.

"No, I mean _go _with me," he elaborated, waving his arm to emphasize the word go. "To Hogsmead, to the fair, dancing, whatever."

"You mean... like a ... a date?" she asked timidly. She was taken aback, he noticed, and immediately took it as another rejection. His face fell with disappointment and he tried to hide the blush creeping across it.

"Yes.. But, of course if you don't want to go, I understand," he said quickly.

"No, no, it's not like that-"

"Oh, I know!" he said, shaking his head, angry that he hadn't thought of this before. "I've done it again, like at the Yule Ball. I've waited to long and you've already got another date-"

"No, Ron, it isn't-"

"Just forget I-"

He was cut off again as she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek. He stopped dead, staring at her.

"Ron, will you shut up for a minute," she asked and he nodded dumbly. "I would love to go into Hogsmead with you tomorrow _on a date._" It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, he smiled broadly.

"Really?" he asked, a bit louder and more excited than he had meant to. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, really, you dummy," she said, giving him another smile. "Now, I am a bit tired. I think I'm going to bed." She reached up once again and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Ron."

"Goodnight," he said softly. As she walked up the stairs, logic set back in and he was suddenly worried. "Hermione?" She turned back to him and he had to wait for his heart to start back up before he could continue. "Um... what exactly does going to Hogsmead together entail?" She laughed lightly and walked back to him.

"Well, we'll walk around together," she explained. "Maybe you'll hold my hand. But it'll just be the two of us. I guess Harry will have to find someone else to hang out with."

"I really don't think he'll mind," Ron observed. "He's become rather popular lately."

"You've noticed that too, eh?" Hermione agreed. "I wonder what that's about."

"Who knows."

"I'd like to think it's just Harry finally coming out of his shell or something."

"But it's Harry, so it'll never be that simple."

"Nope. He'll have some deep psychological reason behind it."

"Of course."

They shared a smile and Hermione returned to her explanation. "When we go to the fair, we'll dance. I'm looking forward to that, you've proven to be a pretty good dancer. And maybe," she stepped closer as she said this. She was very, _very _close to him now. "Just maybe." She stood on tiptoe, "I'll let you kiss me again." Her lips were tantalizingly close to his- so close he could feel her breath mingling with his. He smiled slightly.

"What makes you think you can stop me?" he slurred, snaking a hand around her waist, and closed the distance between them.

Then, in a moment that lasted forever, they stood kissing at the bottom of the stairs and everything was right.

-----

Somehow, Ron made it up to his dorm. He had expected everyone to be asleep already, but there was Harry at the window, a piece of parchment in his hands.

"Hey Harry," he greeted, a stupid grin still plastered to his face. "You're up late." Harry nodded solemnly in response. Ron crossed the room and sat on the window next to him. "What's that?" he asked, motioning to the parchment.

"Letter," Harry said. His voice seemed soft and shaken.

"Who from?" Ron asked with concern.

"A girl," Harry explained, looking sadly at the parchment. Ron raised and eyebrow and Harry looked back up, shaking his head. "Not like that, not a _girl. _A girl, an actual little girl, a child. She's about eight years old." Ron raised the other eyebrow now.

"Why are you getting letters from eight year olds?" he asked skeptically. Harry was quiet for a moment, as if trying to gather the right words.

"Because I saved her," he finally said, in that soft voice. He looked once again at the paper. "And because I'm still saving her." He sighed. "She was one of those missions we went on this summer. Her parents were marked by Voldemort, and one night we heard that they were going to follow through with their plans. By the time we got there her parents... were gone. It was too late, there was nothing we could do for them. But they had saved her for last. I hate to think why, what they might have wanted to do to her. Some of those guys are real sickos- worst than the rest. Well, me and Lupin and Tonks burst in and they take on the two biggest guys- there were three Death Eaters there- and they tell me to take care of the girl. So I Stun the guy- he wouldn't be down for long, I knew- and I grabbed her. Carried her into another room and hid her in the closet there. Barely a minute later the guy comes in and we fight and I somehow manage to knock him out. I went to check on Lupin and Tonks and one of the guys they were fighting is dead. That in itself would be okay except for one thing. Voldemort blames the loss of this guy- a favorite of his, I guess- on Tory. Now he's marked _her_ to be killed and damnitall, she's just eight years old!" He paused to regain his train of thought. "So, she was sent into hiding. She had no other family, so we found a place and Tonks and a few others take turns looking after her. And it's safe there, we can be sure, because Dumbledore used the Fidelus Charm.... That's how I'm still saving her life. I'm her Secret Keeper." He trailed off there, his story seeming to be over.

"What's the letter say?" Ron asked.

"That's she's lonely," Harry said. "That she misses me. That.. I'm her hero, true and real. That's how she said it, too." He pointed at a line of the childish scrawl.

_"I no evryone liks yoo and sais yoor a hero, but they dont reely no yoo. But I no yoo, and I can reely say it. Yoor my hero, Hary, tru and reel!"_

Ron smiled down at the page. "Why's that got you looking like your cat just died?" he asked, looking at a doodle of Harry dressed at the Muggle hero Superman, holding a little girl's hand.

"I was just thinking-"

"Oh no! Did it hurt?" Ron joked, covering his moth in mock fear. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ha ha," he replied. "I was thinking: What is she going to do when this is all over? Right now it's all well and good, with people watching over her. But what about when I kill Voldemort-" Harry had, of late, been quite optimistic in his thinking. It was no longer and _if _to him- "What'll she have then? She's got no family. What does she have to count on?"

Ron laughed slightly. Being only a few moments from the center of the universe- from her lips and from a place where everything was right- had given him incredible insight. "I thought that much would be obvious," he stated. "She'll have you. You'll be her foster-uncle or something. But you'll be her family. And since she'll be your family, you can bet she'll be _our_ family. The extended Weasley clan! You don't need red hair and freckles to join. And, with our help, you both will be fine."

Harry smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks," he said. "When did you get so smart?"

"Don't ask me!" Ron rebutted, throwing up his hands. "I think I've been spending too much time with Hermione. Now, stop pining, we've got to get to bed." As they prepared to sleep, Ron remembered the big news he had. "Oh, Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Well, you wouldn't feel abandoned if Hermione and I wanted to hang out just the two of us in Hogsmead tomorrow, would you?" he asked. Harry sent him a curious look from his bed.

"Why would you do that?" he asked.

"Because we find you an insufferable bore," Ron responded, perfectly deadpan. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, that or we're going on a date." Ron could hear his friend smiling from across the room.

"Finally?" Harry said. Ron smiled. It had been a long time coming, hadn't it? Ron laid back and stared up, painting pictures on the red curtains of his four poster, all involving the girl who had enraptured his mind.

"Wait," Harry said, interrupting Ron's daydream. He opened his curtains and looked out. "Is this just one date or are you officially dating?"

"It's just one date," Ron said skeptically. "But, what does it matter."

"It doesn't" Harry said with a smile. "Night!" With that, he closed his curtains. Ron returned to staring at the pictures on his curtains.

Tomorrow really was shaping up to be a good day.

-------------

There it is, my friends. Fluffs galore! So now, to thank the reviewers. First.. thanks to everyone who reviewed( because I can't respond to every single one)... but special thanks to:

Behkie: I think that was the greatest review I have ever gotten... One of those two will happen, so don't worry!

Yeah... Well, I'm going to be a good little authoress and get to typing chapter eight.

Cheers!


	8. Good as Gold

Disclaimer: It's still not mine, much as I want it. But, what would happen, I wonder, if I claimed that it was mine? Hmmm. Also, several songs here. The first one belongs to hellogoodbye (who can also be attributed to the title of this fic. Go them) and it is called "Say that you're into me". Also, mention is made of a song in the end, it is Paper Tiger by Spoon. Yay.

Warnings: Language. Sexual innuendo. The usual suspects.

Author's Notes: Holy Jesus this chapter took a long time. And I don't even like it. Crap. Anywayz, a cookie to anyone who can identify the Mall Rats quote imbedded in the chapter. And Review. And, hopefully, next chapter won't take as long. Ble.

**Sincerely, me.**

_**Chapter 8:**_

_**Good as Gold.**_

Ron woke with a smile on his face the next morning. It took him a moment to remember why he was so happy, but when he did, his smile grew wider. Today would be his first real date with Hermione.

He took more time than he was used to in preparing for the day. He found himself, for the first time, worrying about what he should wear. It took Harry threatening to go and ask Hermione what she thought would he should pick before Ron reached a decision. He was quite proud of himself to, picking a worn pair of jeans and a blue jumper he seemed to recall Hermione saying she liked before. Looking one last time in the mirror, he headed down to the common room.

There she was. Dressed in a cottony white skirt and a light pink and blue stripped top that fell deliciously off her shoulders. When Ron noticed a pink cloth flower in her hair that he could have sworn belonged to Lavender, he realized she had taken the same effort as he in dressing. He caught her eye from across the room and they smiled. She walked over to him, which was good because his legs seemed to have stopped working.

"Hi," she said when she reached him, smiling again.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling dumb. They stood there for a moment more, neither quite sure how to proceed. "So, uh, when does this date thing start?" he asked.

"Whenever you want it to," she said, waving her hand. Ron chuckled.

"How about six years ago?" he teased, but gave her a look that showed he really meant it.

"Well, I guess the best we can do is to start now," she replied with a blush.

Ron smiled and offered his hand to her, which she took graciously. Together they walked out of their Common Room and down to breakfast. Their mutual best friend watched them exit with a wistful grin, then walked down to the Great Hall by himself.

True to Halloween tradition, the Great Hall was spectacularly decorated. The cloud of live bats hummed around the ceiling and the jack-o-lanterns grinned sinisterly out at them. Ron steered his date to the Gryffindor table, sitting with Ginny, Parvati (and her date from Ravenclaw) Lavender and Seamus (who were still an item after four years) and Luna, who was visiting from the Ravenclaw table where she had very few friends. Parvati looked at the arriving pair shrewdly.

"What's this pleasant new development?" she asked sweetly.

"Ron and I are going into Hogsmead together," Hermione explained with a smile. The table looked at her expectantly. "On a date," she finished. The group broke out into chatter.

"Oh, wow! That's so great!"

"Finally!"

"So that's what took you so long this morning."

"I always knew something would happen between you."

"Congrats, you two!"

"Wait," Ginny said, trying to quiet them. "Wait a minute." Everyone settled down and watched her. Her eyes settled on Hermione. "Is this just one date or are you two going out?" Ron paused, wanting Hermione to answer this one- he wasn't sure of the answer himself.

"It's just one date," she said. Ron's chest tightened, but he ignored it.

"What does it matter, though?" he asked. "Harry asked me that last night when I told him. Why do you all care?"

Ginny, who had worn a look of supreme disappointment when Hermione answered, plastered an innocent smile to her face. "What do you mean, dear brother?" she cooed sweetly. "I mean, it's not like people are betting on your love life or anything." Several people at the table sniggered at this but before Ron could respond, Harry sat down.

"You guys looking forward to today?" he asked, spurring more enthusiastic conversation. A while later, Ginny looked at Lavender with a smile.

"Well," she said coyly, "What's the scoop?" Parvati, who had been immersed in conversation with her new beau, perked up.

"Oh, I've got a good one!" she said. "Hannah told me the traumatizing story she had promised." Everyone shifted to hear her better. "Well, she was going to have a relaxing soak in the Prefect's bath. Only, when she got there, it was already occupied and the occupant was stepping out of the tub. So, Hannah got a full frontal view of… Malfoy."

"Oh, God!"

"Poor girl."

"That's not it! Parvati went on. "Now, like I've said before, Hannah likes to exaggerate, so I don't know how reliable this is… but she said that Malfoy was rather… well endowed."

"OH! I didn't want to know that!"

"I don't even want to think about that."

More exclamations of disgust were heard all around the table. In fact, the only one who didn't say anything during this was Ginny. She just grinned, picking up a roll and began to spread margarine on it slowly, as if judging the right time to begin. "I can confirm that for you," she said finally in a calculated tone. "He is."

"One, I still really don't want to know that," Hermione said, cringing. "Two, how can you be so sure?" She gave Ginny the same shrewd look she had at dinner the day before.

Ginny shrugged, looking intently at her roll. "Well, that is the kind of thing you notice when you're sleeping with someone."

Ron spat the pumpkin juice he was drinking across the table, spraying Harry in a sticky orange mist. More juice dripped unattractively down his face as he stared at his sister, eyes wide in shock. "_What_?!" he exclaimed. Ginny took a bite of her bread, thoroughly ignoring him. Ron, however, wasn't the only shocked face at Ginny's confession. The whole table within earshot was watching her in stunned silence. Parvati was the first to speak.

"You… and Malfoy… are you serious?" she stammered. Ginny nodded, still keeping her eyes on her food. "When?"

"About a month ago," she stated then took a bite of a muffin. Everyone considered this as she chewed, swallowed, then finished her statement. "The first time."

"The _first _time?!" Ron shouted, his anger returning. "You mean there were other _times_?!" Ginny ignored him again, taking another bite of her muffin.

"Gin? How many other… times… did this happen?" Lavender asked, knowing Ginny wasn't going to answer her brother. She shrugged.

"Lost track after a while," she said.

"You… lost.." Ron stammered, looking lost himself. He shook his head and looked away from his baby sister.

"What.. How? Ginny, how did this happen?" Harry asked, looking dumbfounded. "I thought you hated him, I though we all hated him."

"I did," she said, shrugging. "Then it.. It just happened." Her audience stared, silent. "Alright, you want the whole story? About a month ago I was feeling tense so I decided to go for a bath. I chose the Prefect's bath-"

"You're not a Prefect," Ron said quietly, still not looking gat her.

"Well, it's your fault for telling me the password," Ginny said. "When I got there, I wasn't the only one who had thought of a bath. Draco was there. We had words, he called me a slut, I called him a bastard. Then we took to insulting each other's sex drives. We both wanted to prove the other wrong and there seemed only one way. And we did prove each other wrong, indeed. After, neither of us was willing to let it go at one encounter, which was understandable. So we met other times.. And things just evolved naturally, somehow. So, now I suppose I would consider him my boyfriend."

There was a silence following her words in which everyone tried to grasp what she had said. Parvati voiced all of their confusion. "So.. You just went from fighting to.. you know.." She trailed off, but everyone was able to fill in the blank. Ginny just shrugged again.

"He challenged my libido," she justified. "I felt the need to defend myself." The silence continued. "Look, I know this comes as a shock. I know it seems strange, and maybe it is, but it's what happened. And now things have changed; he's changed, we've all seen it, you have to admit that much. So… you are the first to know.. We're going to Hogsmead together today, our first date, I guess. If no one has anything to say…" She paused, waiting for some interjection. None came. "I'm going to go talk to him now." She stood and walked to the Slytherin table. No one spoke as they watched her approach Malfoy, tap his shoulder. He stood, too, to the shock of his friends. One sixth year made some comment and Malfoy's gray eyes flashed at him. He sent a remark his way and the younger student shut up. A hundred pairs of eyes followed the unlikely pair out of the Great Hall.

After a moment, the dull rabble of breakfast started back up.

"Ginny and _Malfoy_?"

"What could she see in him?"

"It's a strange match."

"No, it isn't really. I always thought Gin would go for a bad-boy"

"Well, they don't get much worse than Malfoy!"

Ron heard all of this as though in a dream. Suddenly, the magic of the morning seemed very far away. An awful lump fell into the pit of his stomach and stole away his appetite. Staring at his plate, he listened to the chatter.

"I think they're kinda cute together."

"You're right."

"Maybe this'll end the Gryffindor/Slytherin feud."

"The merging of two houses!"

How could they just talk about it? He stood abruptly, causing his friends to stare at him.

"Ron?" Hermione asked with concern. "What's wrong?"

What could possibly be wrong? His mouth felt dry and his face burned with embarrassment. He shook his head. "Let's get going," he murmured. Hermione nodded, sending a meek smile to their friends before standing.

-------

An awkward silence had fallen over the pair since leaving the Great Hall. Hermione had tried to break it before, but to no avail. Presently they were walking down the wooded path to Hogsmead, all the anxiety of the morning seeming a very long time before. Ron looked at her out of the corner of his eye; saw the dejected look on her face. It was too much. He sighed, stopping.

"I'm sorry for being such a drag right now," he said. Hermione turned and looked back at him.

"It's understandable," she said with a smile. Ron sighed again, leaning against a tree.

"I just can't believe her," he said quietly. Hermione walked over and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I know you don't like Malfoy, but you've got to admit, he has gotten better," she said in a soft comforting tone. "I mean, you saw the other day, he wouldn't even mention your family. I think that was Ginny's doing. So, just try to understand. I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes these things just happen. People, sometimes the people you would least expect, will come together. And.. Well.." she trailed off as Ron shook his head.

"That's only part of it," he said in a quiet voice. "I'm not happy about her dating Malfoy, but.. I suppose I could get used to it."

"Then what's the problem?" Hermione asked. Ron looked up at her with hurt-filled eyes.

"I defended her," he stated simply. "Whenever someone made those accusations, I defended her. Called them fools, said they didn't know her. Well, it looks like I was the one who was fooled. This is the confirmation. My little sister has been sleeping around."

Hermione watched him in silence for a moment. "Oh" she said after a moment. "I guess I forgot for a moment that you're a big brother." Ron shrugged. Hermione leaned on the tree next to him. "I don't know what I'd do if Rosa didn't anything like that." The silence fell over them again as the both wrestled with thoughts of little sisters. After a moment, Ron looked over at her.

"I really am a horrible date, aren't I?" he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Not at all. You've just had some things to deal with this morning," she said in the same soothing voice she had offered before.

"Well, let's forget about that for now," Ron suggested, standing. "Let's get back to the important matter of today."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Hermione teased.

"Us," he stated frankly, sliding a hand around her waist and heading towards Hogsmead.

------

"I have to stop by and see Cosette," Hermione said as they passed the Three Broomsticks. "You know, make sure everything's okay and that she'll be up to the school by five."

"But of course," Ron said, guiding her into the pub. "She's staying here, right?" Hermione nodded. "Well, you go find her, I'll get the drinks." Hermione didn't have to look far to find the DJ.

She was sitting at a table full of boisterous twenty-somethings, all of which would have fit into the Muggle rock scene. Their ringleader was a woman of about 23 with dirty blonde hair, wearing an old white tee-shirt advertising some band and low rider jeans with patches sewn on. She was telling some amusing story that involved wild gesticulations and the other guests at the table were laughing noisily.

"That's her," Hermione said in an undertone to Ron, who had returned with two butterbeers. "Cosette Duponce."

"A rocker _and _French," Ron mused. "Bill would have liked her." Ron reminisced over his late brother for a moment as they walked to the loud table.

"'Mione!" the ringleader said "How are you today?"

"I'm just fine," she replied with a smile. "Just wanted to make sure everything was alright here and that you arrived in one piece." Cosette smiled.

"Yup, I'm all here," she said, brandishing her arms as if to prove it. "Kevin checked for me this morning, didn't you Kev? The last bit was directed to the man on her right whose hair was so shaggy it hid his eyes. He mumbled something incoherently, causing the table to laugh. Cosette leaned over.

"Don't worry, none of us can understand a word he says," she said with a wink. "So are you going to introduce your friend?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione said, "This is Ron Weasley. He's Head Boy at Hogwarts-"

"We won't hold that against him," a girl with strawberry ringlets said with a grin.

"You better not," Ron returned.

"-and we've been working on this fair together," Hermione continued, ignoring the exchange. "He's also my date for the day." Cosette eyes them wryly, grinning.

"Is he the one you were-" Cosette started, but Hermione cut her off.

"So, you should be getting to Hogwarts at about five, the music needs to start at six," Hermione said quickly. Cosette raised an eyebrow.

"Right," she said, nodding. "Right, my girl." She smiled and motioned to two chairs. "Join us!" The pair smiled and obliged. "These two have been single handedly arranging a fair for their school. I'm providing the music." she said with a dramatic wave of her arms. "God, I love spinning for wizard parties! You know why?"

"Why's that, Cosy?" someone asked.

"Glad you asked," she said, smiling at the man who had said it. "You see, at a Muggle party, they are expecting certain songs. And that's all they want to hear! I can't play any little-knows, no unheard-ofs at all. But at a wizard party, all they really care is that it sounds good. I mean, I play a little Weird Sisters, a few things from the WWN and they're fine. I'm left to fill in the spaces with whatever I want. And I've got a few little known, very good bands up my sleeves."

They sat and drank with the group for another fifteen minutes before Cosette's eyes fell on them again.

"'Mione?" she said sweetly. "Didn't you say you two were on a date?"

"Yes, we are," Hermione said with a slight blush.

"Well, then why the bloody hell are you sitting here?!" she exclaimed, waving an arm animatedly. "Get out, enjoy your youth. Go snog in an alleyway or something." She stood and pushed the pair towards the door.

"Remember," Hermione said quickly on the way out," Be up at-"

"Five o'clock," Cosette finished. "Don't worry about me. You just go enjoy this fine day."

The day was rather fine. The autumn air bit at their cheeks but the sun shown above and warmed them.

"So, what do you want to do?" Ron asked at length. His hand settled on her back as they walked down the busy street. "Honeyduke's?"

"Maybe later," Hermione said. "I don't know. A candy shop doesn't hold the same appeal that it used to for me."

"You must be getting old," Ron teased. "Soon you'll be yelling at young hooligans. Oh wait, don't you already yell at young hooligans?"

"Ha, ha, Ron," Hermione said back. "I'm not that much older than you, you know."

"Please, you're over half a year older!" Ron contradicted.

"Am I?" Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. "When's my birthday?"

"September 19," Ron said without hesitation. Hermione stopped in her tracks. Ron looked back at her. "What, you thought I wouldn't know my own best friend's birthday?" She narrowed her eyes further.

"When's Harry's?" she asked.

"July… 29, was it?" Ron said.

"The 31, actually," she corrected. "And I know you knew that. Don't play like I'm special." Ron smirked at her, pulling her into a hug, his breath right on her ear.

"But you are special, Hermione," he murmured. Before she could make a move to respond, he released her like nothing had happened. "How about Zonko's?"

"What?" Hermione said breathily.

"Do you want to go to Zonko's?" he asked again.

"Do I ever want to go to Zonko's?" she responded, rolling her eyes.

"Point taken," Ron conceded.

"Oh, I know where we haven't been I a while!" she exclaimed. "The Shrieking Shack!" Ron stopped.

"You're right we haven't been there in a while," he said. "I haven't been back there since third year."

"Oh," she said. "Too many memories?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "But it's high time I faced it, eh?" Hermione smiled and took his hand and they walked towards the edge of town.

------

The Shrieking Shack still stood after years of abuse and desolation. It had survived the rampages of werewolves and young animagi. It had sat solemnly while tourists gawked at its torn down shingles and speculated on the so-called spirits within. It had born witness to the redeeming of a murderer and the reunion of three old friends. It had carried in its ancient walls scars and secrets and memories. Now, two sets of eyes settled on its rusted pipes and broken shutters, wrestling with scars and secrets and memories of their own.

"It's really not that frightening," Hermione said, sending a weary eye up the derelict walls. "It's just a house."

"Not frightening?" Ron repeated. "You only say that now that you know there really aren't any restless spirits. I remember the first time we came here you were scared out of your mind."

"Was not," she defended indignantly.

"You were," he insisted. "You were clinging to my arm in fear."

"It was cold."

"You squeezed so tightly my hand went numb."

"I wasn't frightened," she said. Ron raised an eyebrow as a final protest. "All right, maybe I was a little frightened." He crossed his arms at her. "Fine, fine! I admit it! I was scared senseless. But you can't blame me, I had just read The Enchanted Village Hogsmeade and it claimed that there were restless spirits there. Books don't lie!"

"Oh, but they do!" Ron said "You just said. "You just said, 'I read in a book that there were restless spirits' when we both know that it was really just Lupin."

"We knew it, but I should hope that the people who wrote that book didn't know about three unregistered animagi at Hogwarts," Hermione defended. "So it was a reasonable conclusion that they came to."

"It was still a lie," Ron said. "No matter how reasonable it was."

"Well, you're being _un_reasonable," she said, crossing her arms. "You can't expect the writer of a book to be able to publish a fact known only by a cherished few."

"I'm just pointing out that you seem to think that any published word is an irrefutable fact," Ron said.

"Irrefutable? I've been rubbing off on you!" Hermione said with a grin. "And I never claimed that. If more evidence pointed to something else being true, I'd believe that. Always believe the most reliable source. The first time we came here, the most reliable source was a book written by someone who had studied this town. Now, the most reliable source is someone who spent time in the Shack, and was the source of all those noises" Hermione concluded with a look that said 'so there!' and Ron stuck out his tongue.

"You know, I think we're the only two people who could go out a date" Ron laughed "and end up fighting about something so insignificant."

"I like it when we do this," Hermione said. "There's nothing wrong with a little debate between friends."

The final word hung in the air for a moment and Ron caught her eye. "Friends?" he repeated, letting the question linger. She sent him an unsure look but said no more on the subject. They turned back to the Shack.

"I used to blame myself for what happened," Ron confessed after a moment. Hermione looked over at him questioningly. "I'd think 'He was my rat, I should have noticed something was wrong'., Or maybe if I had listened to them earlier, instead of refusing to believe them, we'd've gotten out before the moon came out and he'd not have had the chance to escape. That way Sirius would be free and alive and You-Know-Who wouldn't have come back. I used to blame myself for all of that."

"That's absurd!" Hermione exclaimed. "You couldn't have stopped any of that. None of us could."

"I know that now," Ron agreed. "But for the longest time.. I couldn't face this place. It reminded me of what I had done."

"That's why you had to come here today?" Hermione finished. Ron nodded. They both stared at the house for another moment before Hermione smiled. "You remember the first time we came up here?"

"Yeah," Ron said.

"That was when I started having… feelings for you," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. "Because I could tell you were scared, too, but you kept making like you'd protect me from the house. And I know I was cutting off your circulation, but you didn't say a single thing. That whole day I just found myself looking at you and thinking 'Wow, this is nice. Just the two of us. I could get used to this.' But... I'm a bloody coward who couldn't do anything about it. I still am…"

"How so?" Ron asked. Hermione look up like she hadn't though he had heard the last part.

"I'm just.." she started. "This day… I just.." She paused, gathering the right words. "Over the years, I convinced myself that I'd rather have you as a friend, where it was far less likely that anything would come between us."

There it was. There was his answer. She didn't want this "relationship" to last any longer than just this one day. _Well, better make the best of it, _Ron thought, bringing his cold fingertips to her face. Some understanding passed between them and she leaned into him, warming her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him and she tangled her fingers in his hair. He lost himself in the oblivion of her kiss.

-----

The sun was a good bit closer to the western horizon when the pair walked back into town, faces flushed and hands laced together.

"Honeyduke's!" Hermione said happily. "Chocolate is the only thing that could make this day any better." Ron grinned at her and headed for the candy shop. They walked around the barrels and buckets and displays of sweets in a giddy daze, looking at the magical candies like two kids exploring the wonder for the first time.

"You know, I've always wondered if people really get away with sugar quills," Hermione mused, picking up the spun sugar feather.

"I'm sure they do," Ron said, looking at a candy eyeball that could be used to spy on your friends.

"But the teachers surly know what to look for," Hermione said. "And how would the take notes?"

"Hermione," Ron chuckled. "Not everyone takes notes every day." He took the candy out of her hand. "Besides, you can write with this. The feathers are the only sugar part." He picked up another. "I'm buying these for you."

"Ron, I don't need that," Hermione protested as she attempted to grab the quills which Ron was holding just out of her reach.

"I want to," he said smiling. Hermione couldn't resist, smiling back.

"Alright," she said. Ron headed towards the cashier but Hermione grabbed his arm. "Look at that," she whispered, pointing out of the window. Across the street was Harry, walking with Luna.

"So?" Ron said. "They're friends." He turned again, but Hermione held him back.

"Look at how they're walking," She said. "Close enough that they'll brush against each other occasionally. And slowly, just enjoying their conversation. They keep looking at each other, and not much else. Those two are on… some sort of a date." As if to agree with her, the pair stopped, turning to look at each other. Harry leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. Hermione beamed. "Oh! They're so cute together!"

Ron couldn't help but smile across the road at his best friend. It was about time. Once the pair walked into the Three Broomsticks and out of sight, Ron smiled at his date.

"I'm going to go pay for this," he said. "Do you want anything else?" Hermione shook her head softly and Ron went to the cashier.

When they walked out onto the street again, Hermione suggested drinks. Ron was wary of her devious look, but agreed. Ron got drinks and they settled into a table towards the back of the pub.

"So, how do-" Ron began, but Hermione raised a hand, shushing him. She put on a look of straining to hear something and after a moment, Ron realized what.

"I got a letter today," said the very distinctive voice of Harry Potter. Ron glared at Hermione.

"Spying?" he accused only to be shushed again.

"Who from?" Luna asked. Ron glowered but, realizing he couldn't win, sat back and tried not to listen.

"Tory."

"Oh? How is she doing?"

"She's good. Bored and lonely. But good."

"That's good."

There was a pause as they sipped their butterbeers. Luna spoke soon after.

"I still can't believe that a little girl is the reason you've become such a lady's man."

"I'm not a lady's man." He laughed.

"It really seems that way. You always got a crowd of girls around you."

"Because I like telling them my stories."

"Ah yes. The stories that you want to tell Tory when you see her. So the girls are just practice, then."

"Exactly." There was another pause before Harry spoke again, more softly. "You know, I never really felt like a hero until I saved her."

"So now you feel like you can act like one, right?" There was a pause where Harry must have nodded.

"You know… no one's really understood what I've been going through like you do," Harry said quietly. Ron glanced at Hermione 'Let's go' he mouthed to her. She nodded and they stood, walking out onto the street.

No sooner had the stepped into the sunlight was there the crack of an Apparator, followed by a scream. Ron spun towards the noise and saw the last person he had expected to see that day. Lucius Malfoy. He was sneering past him with an awful malicious glint in his eye.

"Hello, son," he drawled. Ron turned to the place Lucius had addressed to see Draco, glaring daggers at his father.

"Lucius," he spat. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on my son," he said, walking towards him. He passed Ron, sending a horrible sneer at Hermione. Ron instinctively stepped in front of her, narrowing his eyes. "You never used to mind."

"Yes, well, I _used_ to be a bloody fool," Draco scoffed, putting himself between Ginny and his father. "I _used_ to not be able to think for myself. I _used_ to think you were powerful."

"Ah, yes," he said. You _used_ to value family." At this time Lucius seemed to notice Ginny. He quirked an eyebrow in her direction curiously. Ginny crossed her arms and glared at him, trying for some semblance of courage. "Oh, what an indignant little weasel. Are you trying to prove something?" Not a moment after the words had left his mouth was he lying face up on the ground, Draco's wand pressed dangerously into the soft flesh of his neck.

"You do not speak to her, you filth" he snarled. "You do not even look at her. You aren't even worthy of breathing the same air as her. She is ten thousand times the person you could ever even dream of being." With that, Draco lifted his wand and stood. One final look of absolute disdain thrown at his father, he turned to Ginny. "Are you alright?" he asked with a caring never before heard in his haughty voice. Ginny nodded with a grateful smile.

There was another crack behind them. Ron turned to see the new arrival, who proved to be none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. She pushed past them with such force that Hermione's purse fell off her arm, spilling its contents over the street. As Hermione stooped to gather her things, Bellatrix paused. She picked up a bag of quills with an awful sneer.

"Here you are, little mudblood," she jeered, throwing the quills to Hermione's feet. Hermione glared back at her but made no move to attack. Ron, however, had to be held back by Harry, who had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks and was sending Bellatrix a hateful stare of his own. "Lucius," Bellatrix said as she walked toward her fellow Death Eater. "Get up, we're leaving. Honestly, I can't believe you came here."

"Silence, woman!" Lucius barked.

"The Dark Lord won't be pleased," Bellatrix teased a moment before they Disapparated.

It took a moment for the people left on the street to realize what had happened.

"Great Merlin!"

"Death Eaters in Hogsmead!"

"We could have died!"

"Someone get Dumbledore!"

Ron knelt next to Hermione and helped her gather the final things into her bag. She had a worried look on her face and was sifting through her things. "Oh no," she murmured. Turning over her bag again she began to rifle through the items once again on the road. "No.. no," Whatever she was searching for wasn't there. She buried her head in her hands.

The first professor had arrived on the scene. Ross walked into the crowd looking very rushed and worried. "Is anybody hurt?" he called.

"No," Ron said, placing a comforting arm around Hermione, who had began to shake. "Lucius Malfoy came and he and Mal-uh.. Draco shouted at each other. Then Draco decked him and Bellatrix Lestrange showed up, she bumped into Hermione and then went to talk to Malfoy, told him off, then they left."

"Hermione?" Ross said with concern. He bent next to her "Are you alright?" Hermione looked up at him with worried, tearful eyes.

"I'm missing something," she said. "A little lead cylinder." Ron could see the color drain from Ross' face.

"Oh," he said, his voice almost cracking. "What is it?"

"Something important," Hermione said, looking around the street one final time for the missing item. "I think they took it."

"Are you sure?" Ross asked. She nodded. "What could they want with it?" Hermione looked him square in the eye, a fear written in her stare that Ron hadn't seen since the Death Eater came for them last year.

"I shudder to think," she said quietly. Ross sighed, looking around the street as if for some kind of aid.

"Alright," he said finally in a subdued tone. "We need to go see Dumbledore."

"I'm coming too," Ron said quickly. Ross looked annoyed for a moment, but agreed.

"Draco, Ginny, you two should come as well," he said, turning. Harry stood in his way. "Fine, Harry, come on." He shook his head and hurried on.

No one spoke much on the way to the castle. Draco kept a protective arm around Ginny's shoulder and scowled at anyone who so much as glanced at them. Ron tried several times to ask Hermione exactly what she was missing, but each time she would shake her head and look solemnly forward. Harry spoke in hushed tones to Luna, who had decided to come even without an invitation. Finally, they reached the school.

Professor Ross led hem wordlessly through the front hall and down to the gargoyle guarding the moving staircase to the headmaster's office.

"Canary Creams," he said. Ron almost beamed with pride at his twin brothers (who had achieved the ultimate success in candy making, being one of Dumbledore's passwords) as they clambered onto the rising stairs. The tension of the group reached a climax at the door the Dumbledore's office. Ross knocked.

"Come in," came the headmaster's voice from inside. The door opened and their group filed in. Dumbledore looked curios about this, but didn't speak. When the door closed itself again, Professor Ross began.

"There were Death Eaters in Hogsmead," he said. This seemed to interest the headmaster, who's face remained neutral but for the worried glint in his eye.

"Was anyone hurt? Anyone taken?" he asked, scanning the group as if for missing members.

"No," Ross said. Relief flooded Dumbledore's old face. "There were only two there. I didn't see it happen, though. Perhaps the story should be told by them." He waved to the students.

"Lucius Malfoy apperated onto main street," Ginny said. "He started talking to Draco."

"Then the bastard said something to Ginny," Draco interjected, not caring enough to watch his language in front of the Professors (though Dumbledore kindly ignored it.) "And I couldn't have that."

"Mal-uh, Draco knocked Lucius to the ground and shoved his wand in his neck," Ron said. "That shut him up."

"Then Bellatrix Lestrange Apparated in," Ginny continued. "She was walking over to Lucius and she knocked Hermione's purse off her arm."

"All my things spilled everywhere," Hermione said "and Bellatrix picked up some quills of mine. I should have known that something was wrong then."

"Bellatrix told Lucius that Voldemort wouldn't be happy he had come here," Harry said, contributing the bit he had seen. "Then they Disapparated."

"Then I realized I was missing something," Hermione said quietly. She sighed. "It had to do with the work I did with my uncle over the summer. Something of a souvenir. But if they have it, if they know what it's for… This could make You-Know-Who stronger then ever before."

"And you were helping to make this over the summer?" Ron asked. "Developing something that could help You-Know-Who?"

"We weren't working for him or anything," she snapped "but, if he got a hold of this information, this magic, this technology, he could use it for his purpose."

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his fingers steepled thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be best if you explained this in its entirety." Hermione nodded, sliding into one of the plush chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Do you know the Theory of Parallel Universe?" she started.

"Yes, but I doubt your friends have heard of it," said Dumbledore. "So why don't you explain it anyway."

"Alright," Hermione continued. "It's a Muggle idea. It states that every decision has an infinite number of possibilities that can spring from it and every time a person is faced with a decision, these choices branch off and become alternate dimensions, or parallel universes. Now, Muggles don't have to ability to prove this theory and it's never really interested any of Wizard-kind. My uncle- a Muggle-born and my uncle by marriage, if you were wondering- happened upon the proof to it by accident. He was turning an old mirror into a Portkey and something went a little array. Through the mirror, he saw a scene that couldn't possibly be here on earth."

"What did he see?" Ginny asked.

"A city. A city filled with fanciful buildings and architecture unlike any on earth. But it was all in ruins. Completely destroyed, eroded, and obviously uninhabited for many, many years. My uncle could only see this world, he couldn't reach it. But it gave him an idea. If this world was destroyed, surely there were others like it. And, unlike this first world, perhaps the others would be inhabitable. If they were, it would completely change the way big wizarding events are put together. Things like the Quidditch World Cup would be simple to hide, without all the anti-Muggle charms. So my uncle began to study this process to see if he could reach these dead worlds."

"When I arrived this summer, my uncle was on the brink of breaking through. He had a team working under him now, four witches and wizards, and they had almost figured out how to reach the other worlds. Within two week we made it. Jamie and I were actually the first to travel through."

"Jamie?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes sparkling at Professor Ross for a moment. Hermione nodded, her cheeks tingeing pink.

"He was on my uncle's team," she elaborated. "And… he was a friend of mine." She swallowed, eager for a change of subject. "Anyway, we used these little lead cylinders to mark the worlds; otherwise the port would open to any random world in the infinite number of choices. That's what they've stolen."

"But why is that so bad?" Harry asked through the scowl that had bee deepening throughout the meeting. "So they now have a lead cylinder. I'm sure they could find something like that somewhere else."

"It wasn't just a lead cylinder," Hermione explained, rubbing her temples to stem the headache that was threatening to form there. "First, it was hollow, and filled with the exact potion needed to make an ordinary mirror into a Port. Second, it had several charms on it very similar to the charms used to make Ports. And, if they deliberately staged this like I think they did-"

"Why do you think that?" Ron asked.

"It just seemed to… coincidental to just be a coincidence. Malfoy, Lucius that is, shows up out of nowhere to talk to a son that he seemed to have pretty thoroughly disowned, then Bellatrix comes and knocks off my bag and helps me pick it up. Not to mention that they could have Disapparated before she started scolding him, but she did it before, so we would think that Lucius was here on his own. It just seemed far too practiced." She buried her face in her hands once more and Ron was quickly at her side, a comforting arm on her shoulders. Silence took the room for a moment and he took the chance to look at its occupants. Draco was listening to the explanations with an indifferent look on his face, all the while rubbing Ginny's shoulder comfortingly. Harry was staring at one silver object on Dumbledore's desk, his eyebrows knitting in thought. Luna, who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation, was staring at Harry with her normally dreamy look. As the silence deepened, a thought was pressing in the back of Ron's mind.

"How is it so dangerous?" he asked. "It isn't a weapon or anything. Not a spell for gaining power. How could it help him?" Hermione looked up at him and for a moment she didn't speak. She only stared at him, as if probing his eyes for some comfort. She sighed, her eyes leaving his for something just beyond him, then spoke.

"This, in and of itself, is not the danger," she explained quietly. "But, if he could access other worlds… Not all of them are dead. Some, most are full of functioning people, just like you and me. And, if there is a universes for every choice that has ever been made… then surely there's a world where You-Know-Who is in power, a world where he did something different and killed Harry. If the You-Know-Who from our world met one of those, he would, he could find a way to become stronger." She trailed off at that.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, leaning forward and placing his elbows his desk. "You are afraid that you have blundered, that you have placed a dangerous weapon in the hands of the enemy." She nodded. "But you have also said that they were obviously looking for it, did you not? It was a deliberate attempt to get that little trinket of yours, that's what you were implying before, right?" Hermione nodded again, a confused look crossing her face. "Which means that they obviously knew what they wanted. It wouldn't make much sense to go after a seemingly harmless object if you didn't know what it could do."

"What are you saying, Headmaster?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore grinned slightly.

"We are very aware of Voldemort's forces are up to," he said. "We know that he knows about your uncle's research, and we know how much he knows about this research. He is no better off in possession of that marker than he was before he had it." Relief played across Hermione's face for a moment, a slight smile toying with the corners of her mouth.

"Well.." she said. "I guess.. We don't have to worry then." A moments pause to allow the subject to die, and Hermione cleared her throat. "What time is it?" Dumbledore checked his odd wristwatch and smiled.

"It is four thirty, Miss Granger," he said. "You should get to that lovely fair you put together." Hermione turned to Ron with an almost panicked look.

"We were supposed to meet Susan five minutes ago to go over the final decorations, and then Cosette…" She trailed off but motioned him out of the room. "You go on, I'll meet you in a moment." Ron nodded and left the bright office but lingered outside the door as his friends stepped onto the corkscrewing staircase. He waited until he heard a voice just inside the door again. "Um, Professor, how exactly did you know about my uncle's research?"

"One of his research team told me about it," Dumbledore replied.

"Oh?" Hermione continued, her voice wavering the slightest bit. "Which one? It's only I was friends with most of them and…" She didn't finish the sentence. Dumbledore chuckled slightly.

"That one you mentioned before," He said. "Jamie. He's in the area you know." The room was filled with a thick silence.

"Yes, I was aware of that," Hermione replied, her tone threateningly flat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Headmaster, I really should attend to the fair."

"Of course, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. Ron heard shuffling chairs and was about to start down the stairs when he heard the headmaster's voice again. "One last thing." There was a pause. "You are one of the greatest students to pass through this school in the long years I have been here. I trust that your judgment on certain matters will be a judgment that would not put to shame the reputation you have made for yourself." This was followed by a very pregnant silence that had Ron cinching his eyebrows and wondering what the old fool was on about. It was a very long moment later before Hermione spoke, her voice smaller and more nervous than Ron had ever heard it in the years he had known her.

"Yes," she muttered. "Of course, Headmaster." There was another shuffling and Ron had only a moment to remember that he had was supposed to be down finding Susan and jump onto the moving stairs before he heard the door open.

In the silence of the stairway Ron could have sworn he heard the sniffling of some nervous child.

------

The Front Lawn of Hogwarts had been transformed into an enchanted fair. There were rows of booths with vendors from Hogsmead and a few ambitious students. There were games and contests and a stage where Mr. Zonko would be doing a display of his best products. Later up there would be the contestants for the costume contest. Presently, Susan Bones was directing the Head Boy and Girl to the back of the fair, down next to the lake where the dance floor was.

"Well, what do you think?" Susan asked, the tour complete.

"It's looks amazing, Suze," Hermione beamed. "You did a great job with these decorations. Everyone will love it" Susan's face broke into a wide, exhausted smile which Hermione returned. "Now, you go get ready for the festivities. It's time to enjoy all your hard work." Susan grinned and turned with a wave, heading back to the castle. Hermione turned to Ron to find him smiling.

"I guess we should go get ready too, right?" he said. Hermione rolled her eyes, lacing her arm through his.

"Just one last thing, I need to check on Cosette," she said, turning back to the dance floor where their DJ was finishing setting up her station. Ron put one finger to Hermione's lips, silencing her before she could start berating anyone else about the details she had already checked a thousand times.

"Hey, Cosy," Ron shouted, catching the girl's attention. "You good to go?"

"Lock, stock and ready to roll!" she said with a grin, giving a thumbs-up.

"Great," Ron called back, then said softly to Hermione "Whatever that means." She rolled her eyes at him but smiled.

"We don't really have that much to get ready," Hermione said as they started across the grounds. "We don't have any costumes, I haven't had time to make anything."

"I didn't either," Ron said. "But I had the greatest idea, so I got Ginny to help me out."

"Well, that's not fair," Hermione said, putting her fists on her hips in mock anger. "Now I'll be all out of place, you in a costume and me not."

"Now, do you really think I'm that thoughtless?" Ron asked. "You have one too." As they mounted the stairs to the front doors, Hermione sent a sly look out of her eye. "What?" Ron asked, opening the door for her in a spontaneous act of chivalry.

"I only agreed to go with you yesterday," she stated. "And you already had matching costumes? Is there some mystery girl that you just dumped and is now out of a costume and a date, or were you expecting something?"

"The only one I ever even thought of asking was you," he said.

"What if I said no?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, it wouldn't have mattered about costumes because I would have thrown myself into the lake anyway," Ron said with a dramatic gesture. Hermione giggled while attempting to stop Ron from collapsing in a mock swoon.

"Well," she said once she had contained herself, "What are we going as, then?"

"It's a secret," Ron said. Hermione pouted for a moment before they stated up the staircase to Gryffindor Tower, then proceeded to badger him the rest of the way to their House. She tried all the tactics she could think of, from flattery to crying, all with a very entertaining effect so that by the time they reached the fat Lady's portrait they were clutching their sides in mirth.

"Cassiopeia," Hermione breathed and a moment later they were crawling through the portrait hole. They walked to the stairs hand in hand, still slightly taken by their giggles. She turned to him there and smiled crookedly. "What now?"

"Ginny's waiting in your dorm with your costume," he said. "She'll tell you what it is and explain everything." Hermione nodded and started up the stairs. One step up she turned back with a smile.

"I'll be back in a moment," she said.

"I'll be waiting, Guinevere," Ron said, unable to stop himself. For a moment he thought he almost saw her face fall with some shade of shock. However, the moment he could identify it as anything, it had flickered into a smile.

"Til then, Lancelot," she replied with a wink. She was the cleverest girl in their year, what could he have expected. Of course she figured it out within moments. She grinned and climbed the stair in the flutter of that gossamer skirt. He leaned against the wall and watched the spot where she had just been, relishing the lingering trace of her warmth and perfume. When the moment had passed, he went up to his dorm to don his costume.

It was rather simple for the idea that it had sprung from. Unfortunately, he doubted that he would have enjoyed wearing a full suit of armor the whole night, so Ginny had convinced him to go with his current ensemble. He wore a maroon tonic with an ornate gold cross embossed on the front, along with maroon tights. This part of the outfit he was none too happy about, but it made for a nice effect, and the cruelness of tights was counteracted by the greatness of the sheathed sword stuck in his leather belt. In his opinion he looked rather dashing but he was just going to wait for Hermione's reaction. With one last look in the full length mirror in their dorm, he headed down to the Common Room.

Five minutes later she still hadn't appeared and Ron was begging to worry about getting down in time to open the fair- a duty that had been granted to them for planning it. Plus, he was burning with anticipation of seeing her. Ginny hadn't let him see the costume as she had prepared it and he was curious as to how it turned out. Not to mention how Hermione would look in it. He stood from the red sofa and turned to the girls' dorm stairs. Where was she? A shadow started down the steps at a slow pace, reminding him of the night he finished her letters. He saw first a foot, shoed in a red slipper, and the hem of a white velvet dress. Then the dress grew longer, at the hips it turned into an intricate bodice with gold stitching and red embroidery. He saw elegantly clothed arms ending in a timid hand, gripping the rail of the stairs. Then the velvet dress ended, enticing him with necklaced chest and neck until he saw her face. She looked slightly worried, but other then that, perfectly poised and beautiful. His breath caught in his chest as he took in the gold garland laced through her enchanted curled hair and the glittering gold dust over her eyes. She saw him and smiled, a gesture he tried to return, but was sure he only managed a twitch. She was walking over to him now, that grin still on her face.

"This costume is really something," she said. "Ginny's a real seamstress." Ron made some agreeing noise. "You look nice, too." She smiled again. He made another affirming noise. "Well, let's get going then?" He might have grunted in response and was really becoming annoyed with his lack of intelligent speech.

"You look good," he said suddenly. She turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. "Really. It's not just Ginny's skill as a seamstress; you really look good in that. Really like some princess. So…. Uh… there you are." She rolled her eyes but he could have sworn he noticed a blush creeping up her charmed-pale skin.

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The fair was magic in both a literal and figurative sense. The booths were filled with glowing pumpkins and sparkling candies and products of every shape and size. Everyone around had put a great effort into their costumes and the lawn was a menagerie of colors. Ron and Hermione met up with Harry about twenty minutes into the fair, finding him in a sleek black tuxedo with his hair unbelievably slicked back.

"Who're you supposed to be?" Ron asked with a laugh.

"Bond," Harry said with a suave smile. "James Bond." Ron quirked an eyebrow at him.

"And who the bloody hell is that?" he asked.

"He's a Muggle character from a movie," Harry laughed. "A secret agent. Always saves the day and gets the girl and what have you, so I thought it would be funny, you know?" Ron laughed, too.

"You look great, Harry," Hermione said, grinning. At that time, Luna walked over to them dreamily. She was clad in what appeared to be a duck suit.

"Um, Luna, I'm guessing you're some kind of poultry, then?" Ron said, once again stunned by the girl's antics. She shrugged and turned to Harry.

"Ginny and I are going to go sign up for the costume contest," she said. "Are you coming?"

"No," Harry said with a shake of his head. "This was just for fun. What about Lancelot and Guinevere?"

"We're the Head Boy and Girl," Hermione said. "It would hardly be proper to compete. We're just going to observe and watch our hard work come together. Right, Ron?"

"Uh… right," he agreed, looking over at the gathering of people by the contest registry. He had only wanted to participate a little. Hermione looked at him, realizing this, and laughed.

"Come on, let's go see the dance floor," she suggested. "Do you want to come, Harry?" He agreed and they headed to the back of the fair.

The dance floor was full of students wriggling and gyrating to the latest Weird Sister's song. Harry pointed out the Patil twins, who were dancing with their respective dates, though were quite joined at the hip, apparently having chosen to be Siamese twins for this event. Ron laughed and held a hand out to Hermione, who took it graciously. Harry looked awkward for a moment before a fifth year Ravenclaw girl dressed as a pixie asked him to dance. Ron and Hermione caught the eye of Cosette, who grinned at them as the song ended, and put on another track. This pleased Hermione, though Ron didn't recognize the tune, and she mouthed the words as they danced. After the song, she grabbed his hand and led them to Cosette.

"The New Pornographers? I love you a little more every time I see you, Cosette!" she said and they left to explore the fair a bit more. A moment later they came across Ginny and Draco, clad in what appeared to be clothes from the American West. "And who are you two?" Hermione asked.

"Bonnie and Clyde," Ginny answered. "I read about them in one of those books you lent me." Draco was frowning, but other then what he must have deemed to be embarrassing clothes he seemed to be having a good time. "We're going to Zonko's display now; do you want to come too?" Hermione agreed before Ron could protest to spending time with Malfoy. They headed in a bunch over to the stage and sat in the second bench before it.

"This is a really amazing dress, Ginny," Hermione said as they waited for the event to begin. "I can't believe you made it!"

"You made that?" Draco asked with more then a hint of admiration in his voice. "Very nice." Ginny smiled warmly at him and Ron couldn't help but feel some joy at seeing his sister so happy.

The display was as good as they had anticipated, full of fireworks and pranks on unsuspecting audience members. Ron laughed and oohed with the rest of the crowd and when the show ended, he stood and took Hermione's hand.

"So, did you enjoy the display?" asked a voice near them. Turning, they discovered Professor Ross, out of his teaching robes and in frayed jeans and a tee shirt bearing a coat of arms that said "the Shins". He grinned at them and approached. "And before you ask, I've come as myself, only the me that I am when I'm not a teacher."

"That's an interesting idea," said Ginny. "You know, you really should be allowed to teach in that." This was said with what might have passed as a leer, earning a glare from Draco and a laugh from Hermione.

"Hear, hear!" she agreed. "Well, professor, I must say I approve of your taste in music. The Shins, got to be one of my favorite bands. I even saw them in New York this summer."

"Oh?" Ross said. "When?"

"There was a concert at the end of June, at the Cotton Club," she said.

"No way," said Ross. "I was there."

"Small world," Hermione said with a grin. "We should go request that the DJ play some of them."

"Would she do that?" Ross asked as their group started toward the dance floor yet again. "I mean, they're more popular then they've been in years past, but still rather obscure. She may not know of them."

"She just played the New Pornographers, I doubt she wouldn't have heard of the Shins," said Hermione. Ron was now beginning to feel very out of place in the conversation. Draco and Ginny had already begun to talk quietly between themselves, but he was left alone. He prayed for a subject change, but none came.

"We should request some Postal Service," Ross suggested.

"We should request some Flaming Lips," Hermione put in.

"We should request some Phish," Ross said, sending the pair into giggles. Ron wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist, in hopes to remind her of his presence. This worked and she looked over at him.

"Let's dance," she said, taking his hand and leading him onto the floor with a wave to Professor Ross. And so they did, dancing for most of the night to songs Ron recognized and some he didn't, until what he estimated was about eight thirty.

Cosette began a new song and Hermione, who had previously smiled at Cosette's choices and started dancing again, suddenly looked shocked. A hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes grew wide and bright with a surprised smile. She let out a laugh and turned away, looking over the other dancers, seemingly searching for someone. She found them, though Ron couldn't see who it was. She motioned to this person, gesturing to the DJ stand and laughing. She turned back to Ron when she was finished with this and stood on tiptoe to speak into his ear.

"This is my band!" she said excitedly. "The one I was a part of in New York. "_Veni Vidi_", this is my band!" She laughed again. "I wrote this song!" She jumped up and wrapped her arms around him for a moment, then the pair began dancing again. Ron made care to listen to the words of this song, as he always did to her works.

"You promised me starry night skies/ They just remind me of your shining bright eyes/ I'm missing your voice at nighttime/ This sepa-separation seems seems a sad crime

But don't don't don't think think think/ I forgot you you you are are are oh so sweet and I I I

I knew if only you were here/ _Things would be more magical/ _If I was there/ _Right now would be more radical/ _You're so not near/ _Wishing I could place a call / _And feel closer to you. Oh

Miles of air and road and land/ That separate me from all my plans/ We're having having having/ Having fun. Then something/ Something tells me I miss someone

But I hope hope hope you didn't/ Forget me, I couldn't forget you/ The whole time I always knew, I knew

If only you were here/ _Things would be more magical/ _If I was there/ _Right now would be more radical/ _You're so not near/ _Wishing I could place a call / _And feel closer to you. Oh

Say that you're into me/ Let me know how it'll be,/ You don't know, just say so/ I'll wait until the prefect time,/ Think of all the prefect lines/ I'll make sure if you'll let me know."

It was unlike anything he had heard from her. A song that was very easy to dance to, with a rather happy feel to it. However, there was something about the words…

"When did you write that?" Ron asked.

"After I had been in New York for a while," she replied, taking his hand and making her way across the dance floor. "Actually, I said that I wrote it, but it was a collaboration between Jamie and me. The first song we wrote together. He's the guy singing on the track, by the way."

"Oh," Ron said, thinking. "Tell me something, if you don't mind my asking, what did you write that song about?" Hermione sent him a sly look over her shoulder.

"It's about missing people," she explained. "And who could I have been missing in New York?" Ron blushed slightly as they arrived at the DJ booth. "Cosette!" she exclaimed. "How did you get a hold of that? Veni Vidi? I thought they were extremely small time."

"They are," Cosette said, picking up a CD and looking at it. "But I have a friend in New York who saw them perform, he sent me a tape. I listened, I loved, so I got in contact with a member of the band and he gave me a supply of Veni Vidi CDs along with permission to play them. And I've sold a fair few of the CDs."

"Really?" Hermione asked, practically beaming. "Wow."

"How'd you hear of them?" Cosette asked with a wry grin. Hermione returned the gesture.

"Look at the cover of that CD a little closer, my friend," she said.

"I knew it!" Cosette laughed. "And that guy, the hot one-"

"Can I asked you a favor?" Hermione said quickly, glancing around. Ron, noticing the second time she did that this day, raised an eyebrow in question. Neither girl noticed. "Do you have a compact player I could borrow?" Cosette looked at her strangely for a moment, then nodded. "That's great. And I think we're going to say good night now." That was the first Ron had heard of this plan. She realized this and turned to him. "I've just had an idea, something I want to show you. Could I have that compact player?" Cosette smiled and retrieved what appeared to be a blue wireless with some strange knobs on it, handing the device to Hermione. "Thanks. Come on." With that, the Head Boy and Girl left the fair they had spent so much time planning, retreating up into the castle.

--------

They sat on the windowsill of the Gryffindor common room, the compact player between them emitting some music like the song that had been played earlier. Hermione was laughing and blushing as Ron complimented her work and even attempted to hum along to a few songs.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier," she said as the second song faded. "I mean, I had the CD, I just needed a player, but I'm sure someone could have lent me one. Then you could have heard the songs as they were meant to be heard, not just an acoustic rendering!" The third song was starting now and Ron recognized it almost immediately.

"That's Photobooth!" he said. "Wow, it does sound different." They laughed together, enjoying the music, her head laying on his arm now. Soon that song faded as well, leaving another to begin. He recognized this one as well, but didn't have a chance to place from where before Hermione pressed a button and the song was skipped.

"I don't like that one," she explained. He nodded and began listening to the next song, but the thought was still tugging at him- where had he heard the skipped song?

Then it struck him.

It was one, the first one that Professor Ross had played.

But… how? He claimed to have written it himself, but if Hermione's band was playing it, then one of them must have written it. If not Hermione herself then that Jamie fellow. How could Ross have written it if it were Jamie's song? Unless.

One by one the pieces fit themselves together. Hermione's anger at the start of the term, the looks between the two of them.. Could it be that…

He'd ask her. That was the only way he'd know for sure. "Why did you really skip that song, Hermione?" he asked in a soft tone. She looked up.

"What?" she said just as softly.

"Why did you skip that song?" he repeated. "Why did you cut Cosette off when she tried to talk about another guy in your band? Why were you sad at the beginning of the term? Hermione, please, tell me. Is… he is, isn't he? Professor Ross… he's Jamie." Hermione looked out of the window and didn't answer. They sat in silence for a never ending moment. "Then it's true." Another moment passed. He sighed. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors. Some people think that a teacher and a student are having an affair. And well, I've heard them in the halls while I was patrolling… Hermione, is it you?" Her head shot up at that, a sort of fear in her eyes. For a moment, all he could her was her voice in the recording, singing a hypnotizing sounding song: "The new war will get you/ It will not protect you." Then the present Hermione smiled weakly.

"No, Ron," she said. "God no. I mean… he is. But we aren't! I couldn't risk that." She grabbed his hand. "There's nothing going on between me and Jamie. I swear it." He couldn't help but smile at her as the song took precedence in the room again: "But I will be there with you when you turn out the light."

That was it then. How could he think that it was true now? She denied it, she swore it up and down. And to him, her word was as good as gold.

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Wow. So, this chapter is quite jumpy. Covering a lot of things. All in one day. enter two side plots, one (D/G) will be dealt with a lot, the other (H/L) is basically done, unless inspiration should strike me to carry them further. Also, enter the real plot, that whole bit about Hermione's summer work, while fairly confusing I think, is also pretty important. But, it will disappear for a while now. Next chapter, things get interesting. Note, I've been looking forward to writing the end of chapter nine since I got the idea for this fic. W00T! So, thanks to reviewers, you know who you are, you rock my world and you should keep on doing what you're doing. And thank you for waiting, if you are reading this. Sorry once again for the delay. Hopefully next chap will be up sooner, I don't think it will be as long. Nearly. Anyway, review!


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